Too Sexy For My Shirt
by xxbeyondxbirthdayxx
Summary: Lovestories aren't written. They just happen because there's ground to let them happen. Or maybe because some changes are possible...  Matt, homophobic, Mello, gay, and the ground's giving in under their feet...
1. Chapter 1

_**Note: **Sometimes I have writer's block, and sometimes I have the opposite of it, whatever you can call it_**.  
**_And so you get a daily update (since last sunday) of Lionheart plus two one shots in two days (Counting Scars and The Monster Under My Bed) and a new multichaptered fic._

_This fic's gonna have some emotional parts, some crack parts, and I don't know in advance what's gonna happen, I didn't plan anything for this one, except the subject: Matt is NOT gay, Mello is, and is going to use stratagems to get Matt. Will he succeed? I don't know! (ok, there would be no point to this fic if he didn't, right? XD)_

_But really, here Matt is everything but gay, not even heterosexual with bi tendencies__, he's not a homophobic but isn't fond of gay people either.__ He's a bit cocky too, because that's what he seems to be in the anime and I wanted a very self assured Matt for once. Mello is very gay, but very badass anway. It would be difficult to have him any other way. But oh, the things I'm gonna make him do... muahaha XD  
_

_I'm challenging myself on not making things easy and have Matt all 'I am gay for Mello because this is Mello', and I missed the time I wrote MarshMello so I needed to write another fic of this kind. There won't be really dramatic stuff here like in Lithium or Lionheart, it's gonna be emotional sometimes but nothing too bad, I won't depress anyone with my updates for once XD_

_The title? You know the song by Right Said Fred, right? _

I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt  
So sexy it hurts  
And I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan  
New York and Japan...

_Then you can easily imagine what sort of crack I will put in here ^^_**  


* * *

****Mello**  
The first class of the day, Roman Civilization, had just begun, and I could already tell that it would be a long, extremely long day. The amphitheatre was almost empty, and I was one of the few students that had actually cared about waking up early to attend a class at 8am. They had warned us, at the end of high school, that you had to be _really_ motivated to succeed in university, and it wasn't a problem for me since I've always loved studying and working my ass off for exams. People had hobbies outside of school. Me, school _was_ my hobby.  
But damn, Roman Civilization. It was boring even for someone like me. Why did I have to choose to master in French literature?  
I could have chosen german, at least, since it was my native language, but I didn't want it to be that easy. Well, I could speak french fluently too, but it was not the same when you've spoken the language since you said your first words.  
And since I was freshly arrived from Berlin, where I was born and had lived until now, I had already studied german history and stuff for years. A little change would be nice, I thought.

Yeah, nice... boring was a better statement. I yawned, the jet lag still affecting me since I had moved only one week ago. My parents had been way too happy to see me leave. I never hid the fact I was gay. I never made any coming out since I don't see why I should publicly state my sexuality. Do heterosexuals come out? No. So I didn't either. I was just myself, and I happen to be the flaming kind of gay guy. But being so open about my preferences wasn't to my parents' likings. My father is in politic and my mother benefits of my father's large income to show off in country clubs and high society charity funds raising dinners. She probably had enough of finding excuses for all the trials her friends made to get me in their daughters' claws.

I, as the son of very important persons, had been put in the Berlin British School from my early years to when I graduated high school, thus I could also speak english perfectly.

So I left for UCLA. I could have chosen Yale or Harvard, but I decided for a place where I could be myself, the two others looking far much too straight ass to me. Oh, I got some looks in the first days, some nasty comments too, but on the whole, things were quite fine and I could get along a few homophobic remarks, I didn't really care. As long as there was no beating, no threatening, it was ok with me.  
I even seemed to be a target for girls that thought I would be a nice friend, but even if I'm a flaming gay, talking about clothes and drooling on guys is not my thing. Why do some girls think a gay friend is a must have?  
And I'm far from being nice, to tell the truth. My ex boyfriend dumped me because I was too much of a macho. Paradoxical, I know...  
I can't help it, I may be homosexual, but I have balls the size of Texas. Virtually speaking, that is. I don't know how they'd fit in my leather pants otherwise (wink).  
Ok, I'm really bad at jokes.

Since my mind gave up at some point, I lit on the dictaphone I had fortunately brought with me and that would prevent me from missing anything. But I was soon distracted.

The class was already half done when a redhead walked nonchalantly in the large amphitheatre, passing in front of the teacher with a wide grin, unphased by the man's scolding look, as he interrupted his speech, and took a seat a few rows away from me.  
He sat in a manner that screamed he didn't give a fuck about Roman Civilization, and just stayed there, his back against the wood of the row behind him, his legs stretched and crossed in front of him under the table, not even taking a note of what the teacher was saying.  
He would have taken a nap that I wouldn't even have been surprised.

At 10am, we were finally freed from a slow agony (death by mind numbing subject, blah), and, gathering my notes and pen, and stuffing them in my messenger bag, I hurried out of the amphitheatre, sparing a look at the redhead who left as nonchalantly as he had arrived, hands in his pockets and... goggles?  
He had goggles resting on the top of his head. What the fuck?  
I had already thought that his striped shirt was kind of weird, but that guy clearly had a bizarre sense of fashion, if he had one at all. Although I didn't mind his skinny jeans, tight around his long legs. Damn, why did his shirt have to be so long? The jeans were tight everywhere, and the shirt hid the most interesting part...

Shit. He caught me staring, and that's only then that I realised I had been standing in the alley and blocking his way. He didn't say a word, grinned at me, and pulled his goggles over his eyes.

I could have said he got me from hello, but he didn't even say hello. And as I stepped aside, he walked passed me, his eyes forgetting me in a split second and left, heading for the parking lot.  
I considered following him but it would probably have been creepy.

I had two hours to kill before lunch, so I decided I would write down the rest of the previous lesson from my dictaphone, and settled in the library across the campus.

But there, sat at a table, my pen dangling between two fingers, my earphones plugged and the monotonous voice of the teacher making my thought drift far away from Roman Civilization once again, I found myself trying to analyse the redhead in stripes. Was he gay? I couldn't tell, really.  
Sometimes it's easy to tell. Like with me. I mean, I walk around in tight leather pants, a sleeveless zipped leather vest, long hair, and I know that even the way I walk screams rainbows.

Sometimes it's also easy to see when a guy is totally straight. Sometimes you know by the disgust in their eyes at your sight, or by a general attitude, I sense it although I'm unable to explain it.

But that guy, I didn't know for sure. Or better said, I somehow sensed he was straight, but I wished he was gay, that would serve my interests much better.

**Matt**  
I knew it had been a good idea to go to the university after I graduated high school. You could show up anytime in class, teachers didn't even tell you anything if you didn't take note, and.. who am I fooling?

I most of all knew that my parents wouldn't let me in peace if I didn't pass the exams, so, free to do what I wanted or not, it didn't change the fact that I would have to be studying seriously at some point.  
But above everything, what made me wake up early this morning (not early enough since I was late anyway) was the thought that my parents had sacrificed ten years of summer holidays to be able to pay for my inscription. And probably more even if they never raised the subject, but we already lived in a crappy apartment, ate meat only on special days and getting fancy clothes was out of question.

So I was quite surprised the day of my eighteenth birthday, on the first of february, a few months ago, when my father proudly showed me the present that was waiting for me in front of the apartment complex: a bright red Chevrolet Camaro from 1970.  
I knew that the car itself hadn't cost much to him because I knew that our neighbour had abandoned it two years ago in the bottom of the parking lot, rusty and not even in working state. But I could easily figure out how many hours, days, months it took my father to put it back in shape and make it look so fantastic.  
That's why this car is my baby. It represents so much to me, and even if I considered selling it many times in the previous months when I was seeing my parents struggle with money issues every end of the month, I never could, and I think that I would have broken my father's heart by doing that.

So yeah, I was going to have to be a bit serious with university.

I've never had a problem attracting girls. Actually, it began when my voice changed and I lost my kid timbre. Even my striped shirts, skinny jeans and combat boots suddenly became attractive (my mother bought cheap clothes by lots and I probably have enough of the same attire for five years still). But what did the most were my eyes.  
I have to say that I love my eyes. My mother's eyes. Blue, very very blue, and almond shaped. On her, they look like they're always smiling, but my father says that on me, they look like I'm mocking life.  
Well, that's probably half true, I'm quite light headed.

But from the day I got my car, I became a magnet. It bothered me, at first, that girls liked me because I had a cool car, but I quickly forgot that point when I realised I could get laid whenever I wanted.  
My backseat probably saw the whole high school girls and some that weren't even at my school as well.  
I had secretly named my car the Love Machine.

I grinned when I exited my car on the campus parking, as a group of girls squealed at my sight.  
I caught some "he's cute" or "I wonder if he has a girlfriend", and would probably have spared them a second glance but they were not my type. My type? Curvy petite brunettes with hazel eyes. Not that I spit on others, if they're cute enough, I don't mind giving them a ride. Pun and all, you see what I mean.

So I strode across the campus and reached the amphitheatre. The lesson had already started for a good hour, but I entered nonetheless, and sat at a random place.  
I made myself comfortable and listened.  
I'm that smart, yes. I register everything, when I care to make the effort. I wouldn't have a hard time finding what I had missed at the library later, or I could ask any chick here, one caught my eye, that could be a good way to get her in my Love Machine. A pretty brunette at the first row, with long curly hair and big boobs. I like big boobs. She seemed the studious type, many pages already filled with her handwriting under her left elbow, she was scribing frantically.  
But she was too fast to leave at the end of the class, and with that guy standing in my way, I didn't have the possibility to run after her.

I took the guy for a chick at first. Long blond hair, a very delicate face, clear eyes, probably grey or blue, I don't remember, but when my eyes travelled down to see if that blonde could do it, ahem... Retaliation, hormones, quick.  
No boobs, and an obvious bulge in his tight pants. Queer. It was written all over him.  
He was staring at me and when he snapped back to reality, I realised that my eyes had done the trick on him. I grinned, because it was quite flattering to be that attractive, but I pulled my goggles over my eyes, I didn't want him to believe I was a fag.  
I'm not really a homophobe, but well, I'm a bit uncomfortable with people like that.  
I left as soon as he swept aside, not wanting to let him time to do or say anything. I shuddered at the thought.

I saw the brunette head for the parking lot so I decided to follow her.

* * *

_**Note: **So, tell me, what could be next, hm?_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Note: _**_I took long to update but now you're gonna get an update every week end! Maybe more but it's difficult for me to write during the week since my work schedule is overly heavy (I'm supposed to work 40 hours/week but it's more like 50 now, and you can add 10 hours of train and subway so when I go back home, once I'm done with daily stuff, I just want to sleep, and only the week end is left for me to write)._  
_I hope you enjoy this second chapter, the interaction between Matt and Mello increase! I have some stuff planned for this story now, I had a lot of time to think about it in three weeks ^^_  
_It's probably meant to be longer than what I expected. But who will complain? XD_**  


* * *

Mello**  
I was almost done with catching up with my Roman Civilization notes when lunch time arrived. I had had a hard time focusing on the boring voice of the teacher, since my mind had decided it was better to focus on the important topic of the day: was the redhead cutie gay or not?

I made my way to the cafeteria, and after deciding for a salad and a piece of chocolate brownie, I sat at a table next to the large window. From there, picking at my food, I suddenly got the answer to my question.

In a red car, an old model, the redhead was sat on the driver's seat, and a brunette that I think I saw in the amphitheatre this morning on the passenger's seat, and they were making out, paper sheets spread on the front shelf.  
He had a hand on her boobs and she didn't seem to mind at all. Bitch.

A part of me seethed at that moment, realising that this cutie was not playing in my team, and another one was turned on. I couldn't help but imagine his hand on my chest instead of her boobs, but I quickly dismissed the thought and stopped watching. Or at least, I tried not to watch, but even if heterosexual displays of affection are not my thing at all, I was hypnotized by the way his lips moved on her, how his back muscles rolled under his shirt as he struggled to face her in the small space of the car. Well, it had nothing to do with a display of affection, actually. More of a heated exchange between a bitch in heat and a hormone driven male.

The guy was quick to get her, I had to admit that the thought of him being the kind of guy who only had to snap his fingers to get a girl was calling to my own experience. I could get all the guys I wanted (and girls too, believe it or not, as much as they always claim they want a tough guy that will protect them and acts like a man, if I had wanted, I'd have had them all too. You don't imagine what miracles my lean body and sexy ass can do on girls. Kind of a lesbian syndrome, I wonder.)

Mr Redhead was predatory, I could see it by the way she was completely giving herself to him.  
Ah, not completely, after all. I saw the hand he had previously on her boobs make its way down south, and the girl push it away. They stopped kissing, they talked, and he nodded to whatever she said. She gathered her notes and they left the car, heading for the cafeteria, his arm around her shoulders.

I wasn't hungry anymore, half bothered by the fact he was straight, half hating the girl for getting what I'd gladly grab for myself. Oh fuck, I'd have to make myself a reason, Mr Redhead was straight, and that was all.

**Matt**  
I didn't need much talking to get the brunette to follow me to my car with her notes so I could copy the first half of the Roman Civilization class I had missed. A smile and she became a melted puddle at my feet. Mojo level: 5/5.

We sat in my Camaro and I caught up with the lesson while we chatted.  
She asked me some questions about myself. Great. I barely replied, asking her back, but I didn't really listen to her answers, I couldn't care less about the tastes and life of a girl I would jump and forget.  
Once I had finished, I asked her to decipher a word she had written on the last page, that I supposedly couldn't read, and as she leant a bit to look at what I was pointing with my index, I caught her chin with a hand and kissed her. She gave in immediately and kissed me back.  
Too. Easy.  
The exchange heated quite fast, and I tentatively brought a hand to the boobs that were squeezed between her and me. She didn't say a word, except if you can call the tiny moan that escaped her a word, and kissed me even more feverishly. Oh God, she was so hot.

After a while, I decided to go for it and let my hand creep down between her legs, but she pushed it away, saying that it was not really the right place and moment for that. She was right since we were on a parking at lunch time in front of the cafeteria, with people walking around, but she quickly made me understand that she was more than up for what I had in mind, but in a better place, tonight. My backseat's springs were gonna get abused tonight, yeah baby.

Since she was willing to get laid, I decided to be a gentleman and invited her for lunch. That's totally me. I could be the sweetest guy with girls I was about to get, but once I got what I wanted, they could just forget it.  
Seriously, I'd be a girl, I would never want to approach myself with the reputation I made myself in high school, I would runaway before getting used like a cumbucket. But for some reason, girls always thought they would make the difference and change me to a serious guy that would be their permanent boyfriend. What they couldn't process, apparently, was that love wasn't involved on my side. I'm a guy, heh.  
I know I'm not the kindest guy when it comes to chicks, but at least I don't lie about my intentions. If a girl's too hard to get, I won't try to seduce her and make her believe sweet fairytales about eternal love just to bring her on my backseat. I move to the next one. Period.  
And I should add, even if I don't want to sound misogynist, that they usually give up their pretty wedding dreams quickly and end up in my Love Machine all the same. My smile could give regrets to the most bigots ones.

Once we had our trays with food on it, I scanned the cafeteria for places. The brunette (that's when I realised I didn't even ask her name, or maybe I just had forgotten it... oh well) showed the only face to face empty seats left and headed for them before I could protest. Damn, we'd hat to seat at the table right before the one where the blond fag I saw in the amphitheatre in Roman Civilization this morning was. I don't know why I cared, but I got the same feeling than this morning as he watched me sit down. I had prayed for the chick to take the seat that was facing his direction, but she sat her back to him, so I tried to place myself in a way that made her hide most of him.  
But she was petite, and I could easily see him stare in my direction over her head. Maybe it was time to start liking tall girls? And why was he staring?  
I quickly focused back on Layla (I fortunately caught a glimpse of her name on her student ID as she wanted to pay for her food and I invited her) and I tried to keep my eyes on her face, although irremediably drawn down south to an area that seemed to protest against a way too small pullover each time she bent to whisper stupid things to me.

I almost freaked out when she stood up to get some water, leaving me in full sight of the fag. But it was nothing compared to what I felt when he glanced at me quickly before focusing back on what looked like a piece of chocolate cake that just had been murdered. Those eyes... so freaking clear and piercing, it sent shudders to my spine. I really, really, really, wouldn't want to find myself any closer to him. The knot in my stomach sent a wave of nausea through me. Even if he wasn't looking at me anymore at that moment, I felt like he was spreading his aura around me. Like if his gayness was wrapping itself around me. And I didn't want that to touch me. Am I homophobic?

He suddenly stood up, leaving his tray on the table, and walked to the exit of the cafeteria. Man, isn't he ashamed of swaying his ass like he does?  
The cafeteria employee shouted at him to clear out his tray before leaving, but he just kept on walking like a cat on a fence and flipped the bird, not even looking at the employee, who simply sighed in despair, shaking her head.  
I couldn't help but smile. This guy surely owned his world. And he suddenly seemed less ridiculous to me. But still gay enough for me not to want to deal with him.

**Mello**  
Who did this guy think he was? Looking at me with disgust like he did? When I finally found myself alone, sat in the grass far beyond the parking lot, I ripped a chocolate bar open and snapped a chunk, munching it as viciously as my rage boiled in me. Who did he think he was, dammit?!  
I had always pitied homophobes, because they're just ignorant stupid people scared by something they don't understand. I usually just shrug gay haters off, as long as they don't attack me verbally or physically, so I don't know what in this guy made me go out of my way, but I couldn't let go. I tried to breathe the angriness away as I snapped a second piece of my chocolate, but I couldn't stay in place, I was too pissed off to sit here still.

As I crossed the parking in the opposite way to exit the campus for a walk in town before the afternoon classes began in an hour, I suddenly heard wheels screech to a halt and it was fortunate I jumped ten miles high of surprise because I felt something hit my hip although I had moved a bit out of the way of what I finally saw was a red Chevrolet. It didn't hurt, but it hit me hard enough to make me fall on the concrete.

I stood up, dusting my leather pants and looking for any tear.

"Hey, sorry man, I was... hum... distracted." a male voice rose from the car's open window, followed by the stupidest female giggle I have ever heard. Whatever this bitch had been doing to him, the redhead had almost knocked me down.

He exited his car and approached me. I could tell he felt uneasy.  
"Sure you're ok?" he asked, looking everywhere except in my eyes, trying to avoid my gaze.  
"No, I'm not. My pants are damage because you can't keep your hands on your steering wheel." I spat. God, I wouldn't rape him, and my homosexuality wasn't contagious, why did he have to act so awkward?  
"Aw, I'm sorry. I guess I'm gonna have to pay for the damage... just let me know how much I owe you, ok?"  
He seemed really annoyed, more than the situation required, and I wondered where the cocky guy had gone. I was about to tell him it would be fine, and that he didn't have to pay, his puppy eyes stuck on the tip of his shoes making me feel bad, since I didn't need any money and could as well buy myself many other leather pants with what my parents were sending me every week for my stay in the US.

"Maaaatt, he's ok! Can't we just go now?" the brunette complained from the car, making me think better of the idea of telling him to forget it. Bitch.  
"NO I'm not ok, I got a hole in my pants right on my butt and I'll miss the next class if I go back home to change them, and I can't go like that. And yeah, you're paying for that, sure thing." I seethed, glaring at him.  
But he was looking at the brunette with a surprised expression.  
"Layla, that's mean, I can't just let him like that!"  
Well well well... playing the nice guy now?  
Said Layla opened the passenger's door, slid from the seat, slammed the door shut and, huffing, she left, spitting a "Do as you like, but forget about tonight then."

I exulted. Not for long though.  
"Aw, so bad... for her, I mean." he winked at me with a knowing look that made me want to slap him to death, "Like if I couldn't get myself another cutie before the night."  
God, the cocky guy wasn't far.

**Matt**  
I still felt uneasy, standing next to him like that, but it wasn't that bad, I mean, it's not like he was dirty or would contaminate me, I was being stupid to fear him. He wasn't going to eat me after all.  
Actually, I was more annoyed by the fact that I would have to pay for the damage with money I didn't have, and couldn't ask my parents.

And then Layla dumped me, great. Not that I gave a fuck about her, but I'd have to hunt down another date for tonight, if I didn't want to get intimate with my left hand tonight (yes, I'm left handed).

I tried some humour since the fag was still glaring at me with eyes that made cold sweat run along my spine. He was freaking scary now, and unfortunately, my humour didn't work and I felt the nausea come back.

"Since you got a car, you're driving me home so I can change and then back here so I don't miss my class." he said in a tone that didn't leave any place to discussion. Who did he think he was? No chick had ever commanded me like that so I wouldn't let that queer try it.  
"Hurry up." he glared at me again while opening the passenger's door.  
Ok, I guess I will...


	3. Chapter 3

_**Note:** I'm sorry I didn't update the previous week end, but I was busy with my parents visiting! I'll try to write chapter 4 tomorrow since I have a day off, to make up for that!  
So, Mello is beginning to embarrass Matt, aha! And that's only the beginning, I promise!_

* * *

**Mello**  
As I sat in the redhead's car, not even waiting for his approval to drive me home, I felt a pinch of guilt as I watched him walk to the driver's side, looking helpless and annoyed.  
I admit it, I was making him pay more for my frustration that he was straight and out of reach than for the pants themselves. It was true that I wouldn't have time to go back home, change my leather pants and go back to the amphitheatre in time for the first class of the afternoon if I had to walk or take the bus, but I could have skipped the class, it wasn't a big deal since we were in university and didn't have anyone to check our presence, or I could have called a cab.

But it was way more appealing to find a reason to act like a bitch with him. Not only could I have a (unfair, ok...) reason to bother him, but I could spend some time with him and steal some nice views of his ass and long legs. God, those legs, they were giving me chills just by looking at him sit on the driver's seat.  
Why did a straight guy wear so tight fitting jeans?

He started the car and left the parking lot without a word, clearly trying to avoid meeting my eyes. I could tell he was nervous, by the way his fingers tapped the stirring wheel as he waited for the barrier to open.

"Where do you live?" he finally asked, briefly looking at me and catching me staring at his legs. He became redder than his car and his eyes became as wide as plates, as he looked in front of him again.  
"I'll give you directions, drive downtown for now." I replied, amused. If I couldn't get him, I could at least have some fun traumatizing a homophobe.

He drove in silence, following the directions I gave him from time to time. It was hilarious to see his legs stick together as if he was trying to prevent me from raping him mentally. And it gave him some issues to drive, which was even funnier.  
"I'm not going to jump you, y'know?" I said blankly when I wasn't having fun anymore, the silence becoming a bit heavy as he parked along the building where I lived.  
He turned his head to look at me and scrutinized my face, probably to check if I was kidding or not. I tried to keep a serious expression although I knew I wouldn't be long to burst into laughters, which I did when he finally spoke.  
"What? I'm not sexy enough for you?"

I didn't expect him to say that, and to tell the truth, I appreciated it. And hated it at the same time. Somehow he had seen in me that I was playing with him and was playing along. Usually, people never understood my sarcasm, humour or irony, whichever I used. The game was over and the cocky guy was back.  
But I couldn't help but laugh my ass off although I didn't like that he seemed to see through me, his grin had replaced his uneasy behaviour, and the way his eyes wrinkled upward and a dimple appeared among his freckles just made me fall deeper for him. Shit.

**Matt**  
I wasn't happy about the situation. Not at all. Even less when I noticed that he was focusing on my legs. I felt naked under his gaze, and that was probably what he was imagining from the lustful light in his eyes. I focused on the road, trying to will the nausea away.

We finally arrived where he lived, and I was quite surprised to see he had made me stop there, the block was one of the most expensive of the city and I thought that we were just passing by, not that he actually lived here. I guess he was from a rich family, although I could guess by the fact there were mainly studios here that he lived alone, without his family. A spoiled rotten kid, probably. Thus the behaviour.

"I'm not going to jump you, y'know?" he suddenly said. WTF???  
I stared at him in disbelief. I knew he had been checking me out all the time the drive had lasted, and it was impossible that he hadn't noticed my discomfort, but stating things bluntly like this just made his homosexuality more real, closer to me, and it gave me creeps.

But far beyond his irises, I saw a game playing. He was making a totally serious face, but I don't know, I could feel it radiate from him: he was toying with me. And despite the fact I felt like running away from his gayness, from his stare on my legs, from everything he was, I couldn't help but want to play along. He looked like a cat rolling a wool ball, and I felt like the wool ball needed to throw itself at his face.  
"What? I'm not sexy enough for you?"

He laughed at my answer, and where I would have expected him to giggle, he just had a manly laughter, nothing like I would have imagined. Maybe I was just too much stuck in clichés...  
I caught myself staring at his face as he laughed. He wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to laugh, actually. He looked badass, serious, kinda dangerous even, for some unexplained reason, and him laughing totally changed his face to an angelic hue. Yes, he was a beautiful person, even I could admit it. Did that sound gay? Oh, hello nausea, again...

I snapped back to reality a second before him, fortunately, otherwise he could have had imagined things.  
His laughter ended as quickly as it had begun, and he hopped out of my car.  
"Come on." he called to me, slamming the passenger's door closed.

"I'll wait for you here." I said. I already felt like leaving him there and drive away as fast as I could, so entering his home was a big no no. I was regretting my stupid reply from earlier, why did I even talk to him? He was making me feel stupid and uneasy, and I really didn't want to have anything to do with him, let alone joke with him.

**Mello**  
God, was he annoying.  
"I'm not trying to drag you into my bed, I'm trying to prevent you from being harassed by the cops. The neighbourhood is under surveillance and they'd probably take you for a drug dealer, waiting here in your car. So come on."

He followed, reluctantly of course, keeping an obvious secure perimeter between him and me, frowning. Was he bipolar or what? Where did the cocky guy go once again?

Inside of the building's hall, I reached for the elevator's call button. I could hear the redhead shift from one foot to another behind me, and it was beginning to get on my nerves, having him so blatantly unwilling to be in my presence, or better said in the presence of a homosexual guy. But he entered the elevator anyway, standing as far as me as possible in the small cubicle. He almost started when I simply raised a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my eyes, and I was sure that if he could have carved his body into the metal wall of the elevator, he would have.

Once I opened the door of my flat, he hesitated outside. I looked at him, sighing in annoyance, and he stepped in, looking down, almost guiltily.

I decided to have some more fun, since my flat consisted of a single room that was all at once my living room, bedroom and kitchen, the bathroom and toilets being the only separate place in my small studio.  
I began to strip from the damage pants I was wearing, threw them on the back of my couch, and walked nonchalantly to my drawer to pick up a new pair. Did I mention I was going commando? (Which was the obvious reason why I didn't want to go to class with a hole right on my butt).

The redhead stared, mouth hanging open, for a brief moment, more of shock than a real will to stare, and as I was lacing the front of my pants, focusing on the strings, I heard the door slam, and he was gone.  
I smirked and finished what I was doing before grabbing my messenger bag and exiting my apartment. I guess I would have to call a cab if I didn't want to be late for the first lesson of the afternoon, that was supposed to begin in twenty minutes.

I was surprised to see him his back against the wall in the corridor, I really thought that he had ran away after my little tease. But he was there, looking devastated, but there.  
I walked past him and called the elevator again.  
When the automatic doors opened and I stepped in, he hesitated for a second, and turned around, heading for the stairs. When I exited the building, he was already sitting in his car.

The drive back to university was as silent as the Dead. It wasn't even funny.  
He stopped right in front of the amphitheatre, obviously to let me out, which I did, a bit surprised that he didn't just drive to the parking lot directly, since we still had more than five minutes before the beginning of the class.  
I watched the back of the Camaro leave, and went inside of the building. I don't know what he was thinking, if he was angry or shocked, and it bothered me that I cared.

**Matt**  
I saw his ass. I saw his dick. I saw everything I didn't want to see. I was far beyond nausea, I felt like a big red sign stating I had been touched by a gay atmosphere was flashing on my forehead. I almost felt _dirty_.  
I don't know why, but I was sure that everyone was staring and laughing at me, like if everyone knew what had just happened. It was stupid, of course, but shit, why did he have to do that? I perfectly knew he had provoked me, and that he was playing with me, but I had nothing to reply to such a provocation.  
I hated him. That's all I could think at that moment. Hating him for showing parts of him I wished he hadn't, hating him for sitting in my Love Machine with all his gayness, hating him for making Layla dump me, hating him for making me feel sick with his presence, hating him for everything he did, said or was.

I sat still in my car, and breathed in and out regularly, wanting to get rid of the anger in me. But I was unable to will it away. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that took me long minutes to identify (I tend to do that, when I feel bad, I peel off every layer of the feelings in me and try to analyse each of them, understanding is the only thing that helps me keep my head cold and up. My dad says I got that from my mother, she never acts on impulse, she thinks twice before doing anything and is always very cold headed and collected. That's probably why I'm such a jerk with girls... some kind of calculation from my part to get the best of life, in a life that's not really easy for me... oh, I have a happy family, but it's not the greatest pleasure in the world to see the ones you love struggle to feed you, dress you and give you a decent home...)

It took me longer than I expected, because I suddenly saw, from the distance, the blond fag exit the amphitheatre. I've been sitting in my car for one full hour, and I still hadn't sorted my feelings out. Shit. And I still had to pay for his damaged pants. I roared my Camaro's motor back to life, and exited the parking lot, stopping at his level and opening my window.  
"You didn't tell me how much I owe you for the pants." I said blankly, not even looking at him. The hate was coming back and it was hard not to show it.  
"Two hundred bucks." he replied, and I could feel his piercing eyes on me. How did he do that, letting you know he was glaring at you even if you didn't even see his eyes? No, I don't even want to know...

Two hundred buck. Holy fuck. I expected something expensive, but not so much...  
"Ok, just give me some time to gather the money..." I was devastated, I didn't even know how to get such an amount in a short time, I guess he wouldn't wait forever.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Note: **__a mid week update to make up for the missed update of two week ends ago! Aaaaand... a cliffie, yeah baby!_  
**

* * *

Mello**  
I probably exaggerated the price a bit too much, but I was in such a bad mood that I couldn't help it but take it out on him. He didn't even show up in the amphitheatre plus I had heard Layla chat with another girl about him, and the other chick had convinced the bitch to take him back because 'you're crazy to give up a guy like him, he's just too cute to let go!' which I only could agree with, but at the same time I didn't want her to have him.

So when his car, which motor's sound I recognised even without looking behind (there's not a lot of old Camaros driving around the campus or even town, and the sound of the engine is really typical), slid along the pavement and stopped at my level, and that he asked how much he owed me, I inflated the price of my pants of a good 75 bucks. I don't buy the cheapest leather pants, but 200 bucks was really an overstatement. But he didn't know, obviously. He just frowned and drove away.

I heard heals stack behind me from out of the building, and smirked when I saw Layla's disappointed face as the brunette came running from the amphitheatre but wasn't fast enough, as the redhead was already gone, the chick pitifully standing a few feet away from me on the pavement.  
So much for taking hours to paint your stupid face in the university's bathroom, bitch.  
I don't have that problem: I shower, I brush my teeth, I detangle my hair, I put my leather on, and I'm done. No need to fix anything in the bathroom anytime of the day, I'm naturally awesome. I don't even have to shave my face, I don't have the slightest duvet on my chin. I hardly grow hairs on my legs and crotch anyway. Girls always ask me if I'm a true blond. I'm the real thing, baby, yeah...

I stirred a chocolate bar from my messenger bag, ripped the tinfoil open and began to take small bites, letting the treat melt on my tongue, contentedly watching the Camaro's back in the distance.  
I felt unpleasant goosebumps along my spine when Layla's voice resounded next to me. Even the dentist's roulette sounds better than her voice...  
"What were you doing in Matt's car earlier?" she asked out of the blue, "I saw you in his car, and he didn't seem pleased at all."  
I slowly turned my head and stared at her scolding expression.  
Okay.  
First, you don't scold me, bitch.  
Second, that's none of your business.  
Third, Matt? Oh right, that's what she had called him before she dumped him in the parking lot. Matt. Mmh.

I smirked at her. No, I wasn't going to snap at her, I had a much better idea.  
"Well, since you had teased him before abandoning him, he needed some relief, if you see what I mean."  
I winked and slowly catwalked away, totally satisfied with her stunned expression.

**Matt**  
200 bucks? I kept repeating the amount the blonde fag had told me, but it didn't lower it in the slightest. How was I going to find the money?  
While I was driving, I reviewed my whole room in a mental search of something I could sell, but unfortunately, there was nothing of a value high enough to cover the leather pants. So I decided to find a job. My parents were against it since I was already helping my father in his car repair affair to prevent him to be forced to hire and pay a new employee because of the extra work he had, and they didn't want me to make too many extra hours so I could focus on my studies.  
Not only would I have to find a job, but I would have to hide it from my parents. That wasn't going to be easy.

I drove all over town, applying wherever there was a chance for me to find a job, but most of the students jobs were already taken at that time of the year, and I didn't have the skills for the remaining ones. All I could do was repair stuff like cars, electric devices and such, and that was about all.  
Out of despair, I entered the leather shop, determined to have them let me help in the store in exchange of a pair of leather pants. It would probably take two months to work enough for 200$ since I could only work a few hours per week but I was cornered.

The store owner was kind enough to let me explain my case, when I had expected her to throw me out. I used my charms on her although she was in her forties, that couldn't hurt, and actually it revealed itself useful.  
But suddenly, when I announced the amount of what I was supposed to replace, her eyes went as wide as plates.  
"But honey, you're being ripped off!" she exclaimed, leading me to the pants rack and showing me the tag of the most expensive trousers hung there. I wouldn't know, but they seemed to me like the ones the blonde fag wore, very tight with the front lacing thing, and they only (well, 'only' was already expensive nonetheless, for me) cost 125 bucks.  
"Bastard" I muttered under my breath, feeling anger rise in me.  
"Listen, I have a few things to fix here, like the light in one of the trying booths that doesn't work anymore, and my automatic iron curtain that I have to open and close manually since the system is broken. Fix that first, and I'll probably find some more for you to do, until I consider it's worth the pants' price. Then you'll bring your friend here and he'll get new pants and you won't be ripped off. Although I guess a real friend wouldn't try to steal you like this. But that's just my opinion." she shrugged.  
"He's not my friend, I don't even know him." I groaned, before leaving the store. I would begin my job here tomorrow since I needed to bring some tools, but I felt relieved, I wouldn't have to work here for too long, and the satisfaction of giving the fag a little lesson the day I'd bring him here and show him the price tag was giving me a warm feeling inside.  
Oh wait. That meant I'd have to show myself with him again. Shit.

I drove home, but I couldn't help but loop in my mind the fact that the blond bastard had lied about the price. Ok, I had almost knocked him down, and damaged his pants, but since then he'd been acting like a total douche with me, and we didn't even know each other so I didn't understand what made him think he could do that to me. He seemed the kind to do whatever he wanted without anyone's approval or without giving a shit of what people thought of him, I mean, look at him and the way he's dressed!  
Thinking about that irritated me to no end, who the fuck did he think he was?

I'm not the kind for strong emotions like anger of hate, usually, but for the first time in my life, I had found someone that gathered all the requirements to be hated by me. And the cherry on top was that he was gay, which didn't help at all.

**Mello**  
I was sprawled on my couch, music blaring from the speakers of my stereo, doing nothing, when someone decided to destroy my door. Or at least tried to. I jumped on my feet, ready to hit whoever was drumming on the wood as hard as what they were doing to my door.  
"What the hell?" I yelled, when I cracked it open and almost received it in the face, as the person on the other side kept on hammering on it.  
There on my doorstep stood the redhead. And by the look of it, he was furious.  
I don't know why but it made me grin, and I stepped aside to let him in like if it was totally normal. He didn't make a move to come in though.  
"200 bucks, huh? Why did you try to rip me off?" he spat, his tone strangely calm although I could hear a tinge of venom in his voice, "I know I'm responsible for the damage of your pants, but you obviously don't need the money, so why d'you lie about the price? Is it by stealing people that you can afford living here or what?"

I stared at him, not really knowing what would come next, if he was going to keep throwing his anger at me or hit me or else, so I kept on grinning face to him. He didn't appreciate it at all, something I could understand, it's not really pleasant to have someone clearly mocking you while you're furious at them.  
He glared at me for a few seconds, but since I wasn't up for a stare competition (although looking in such beautiful eyes wasn't the worst way to compete), I broke the silence.  
"Finished with your little tantrum?" I said airily, keeping my grin in place as I turned around, leaving the door open and gesturing in his direction to come in.  
I heard the door slam and wondered if he would ever treat my door decently someday.  
I plopped down on my couch again , looking up. But he still had his furious face.  
"Come on, it's not the end of the world!" I sighed.  
"Maybe not yours." he replied simply, "But I guess you just don't give a shit about the people you're playing with."  
He walked back to the door.  
"I don't even know why I came in, I'm leaving. I just wanted to tell you that I know your pants cost way less than what you told me and that I was going to replace them by a new pair from Black Eagle Leather as soon as I've worked there enough to cover the cost, but that you won't get a single penny from me. You may want to play with people, but I'm not your toy."

He didn't even have closed the door that I couldn't help but reply to the last word he said, slowly standing from my couch as I watched him leave.  
"Such a shame, you'd be the perfect boy toy though..."

Within seconds, he was back in front of me and his hand was firmly gripping my throat.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Note: **__So now we're gonna see if Mello's mouth brought him some trouble... hehe, enjoy!_  
**

* * *

Matt  
**Boy toy? BOY TOY?  
The blonde fag had crossed a limit, and hearing him assert my person as an eventual homosexual object for him to play with was one thing my mind could not even begin to process. My brain sizzled and I became mad, totally mad.  
I didn't even think twice before putting my plans of strangulation into motion. I wanted to choke that little bitch to death. Not only was I NOT gay, but the sole idea I could be used by someone like him was disgusting.  
He was pretentious, cocky, big-mouthed, unnerving, and he was _gay_. There was no way I would be assimilated to this shit.

Of course, I wouldn't kill him, I was angry but I wouldn't go to jail, I was not stupid (although I could probably live in jail with the idea I shut his big mouth, it would bring me enough warmth and fuzziness inside to stand a life in prison).  
But I hoped for a brief moment that I would scare him enough for him to stop his little game and leave me alone forever.

Unfortunately, I was quickly pushed back as his hand gripped my wrist with such a strength that I thought he would break it, his grin not leaving his face once, and his right leg snaked around mines to trip me on the couch.  
I fell backward and briefly feared that with such a bruising force and backfighting skills, he could as well rape me if he wanted. But to my surprise he didn't follow in the fall, letting me land on my back on the couch while he proudly stood in front of it, not even losing his balance.  
"You're so moody." he sighed, crossing his arms as he mockingly smirked at me from above.

My blood was boiling. I was beyond mad at him. Not only for calling me a boy toy, but for the humiliating position I was in, and above all for the fact that there seemed to be nothing that could take away his confidence.  
I jumped on my feet, an unusual rage making me act like I never did before.  
I tried to punch him, hard. I wanted to hurt him, beat him, make his stupid smile bleed and finally win against the cocky bastard.

Shit. How did he do that?  
I suddenly suspected him to have practised some martial art. He smoothly caught my wrist and pulled me to his left side and down, my body easily following with all the strength I had put in the missed punch, and I found myself neck stuck between his legs as he swiftly threw his right leg above my shoulder as I fell on my knees.  
His thighs were holding me like an iron grip, and even in that uncomfortable position, I couldn't help but think that he was way more muscular than he seemed to be. And that I was lucky I didn't fall the other way around otherwise I would have had his crotch right against my face. Urgh.

"I don't want to ruin your hopes, but it would be better for you to understand now that you can't win that battle, before you get hurt. Not that I can't control my own attacks, but I'm somehow becoming a bit annoyed with you now and would gladly hurt you a little bit, just for fun. So don't tease me with your poor attempts anymore and leave. Unless you're finally agreeing on a good fuck with me, you have no reason to stay."

My eyes went wide. I tend to do that a lot lately. Well, I tend to get reminded of gay sex a lot lately, too, that's why.  
Fuck, I hated him so much! It's such an unpleasant feeling to hate and want to beat someone to a pulp and be unable to!

**Mello**  
I guess that if he had known about my abilities to fight, he wouldn't have even tried.  
I had taken sambo lessons for years, back in my native Germany. I was not particularly the sportive kind of guy but being gay had brought me my share of antigay violence and stuff and since I also wasn't the kind to suffer in silence, I did what was necessary to be able to fight back.  
I had tried karate and muay thai first, but it hadn't been my cup of tea. And then I, after a scholar trip in Russia, discovered the art of fighting that the russian special forces used, and was really impressed by the way they used their bodies. Imagine muscular and strong-built soviets in tight black fighting apparel snaking and crawling and almost _dancing_ around their opponent in deadly grips, breaking spines and cracking necks like mikados.  
It was for the beauty of the men first, and for the fight itself after some time, when I began to really appreciate the sport as months passed by and my skills increased.

It was funny at first but I knew very quickly that he couldn't fight back at all. He was weak, light as a feather and he couldn't even keep his balance. So much for being such a macho, I knew girls that were stronger than him!  
I verbally threw him out of my apartment as I let go of him, getting bored. He looked at me with eyes as wide as plates and I noticed that it was his trademark each time I suggested gay sex to him. Funny.

And then it was back, the disgust in his eyes. And as much as I always ignored that kind of look, and that it didn't usually do anything to me, this time it bothered me.  
Don't misunderstand me, yes, I thought he was amazingly sexy, but right now, all I could see was a stupid homophobe, and the anger that was slowly building in me took the best of my feelings. No lust anymore, no game, nothing.  
I wanted him out of my place and my life. I _hated_ him.

"Forget about the pants and don't even get near me again." I spat, and he left. He was seething, I could see it, but there was nothing he could do, after all, and for once he was smart enough not to try anything but go away.

The next day, I arrived twenty minutes before the first class of the morning and headed for the administrative office of the university. I wasn't even in the office itself, crossing the corridor, that I heard him.  
"Please, I know we're not supposed to switch classes after the year has begun, but I need to. I'm pretty sure you can help me." he was purring to the black haired secretary who was trying to oppose.  
Not even waiting for the woman to let me in, I entered.  
"As much as I hate it, I support his request. Either him or me, but one of us has to switch classes, you wouldn't want to be held responsible for a murder in class, would you?" I said as I realised he had come here for the exact same reason as me. I didn't have much choice than to do my best so the secretary would agree to let one of us switch classes, since it was for my own interest too.  
I guess the look in his eyes when he turned around and saw me was enough of a hint for the secretary to understand that murder was probably not an understatement, considering the electricity suddenly floating around us.

When I saw the woman stir the required forms from a plastic case and hand them to the redhead so he could apply for another class, I left, satisfied I wouldn't see him in the amphitheatre anymore, and didn't even have to bother with the switch since he would be the one to.  
I contentedly snapped large chunks of a chocolate bar I had just stirred from my bag as I sat on a bench close to the amphitheatre, waiting for the first class to begin.

I was looking down, daydreaming, when a pair of red converses came into my sight.  
I looked up and saw the redhead walk past the bench, he looked so angry he didn't even see me. Blame my big mouth, but I couldn't keep it shut, the occasion was too great to tease the object of my visceral hate.  
"You could at least thank me for helping you convince the chick."  
He stopped cold, and his body turned to face me.  
He approached, slowly, tensed, and stopped before getting too close. I hated him a little more for the security perimeter he was putting between my gayness and him.  
"I don't need your help, I don't want you to talk to me, and I don't want to have anything to do with a dirty creature like you, so leave me the fuck alone, 'kay?" he spat.

**Matt**  
I went too far. I knew it the moment I uttered the words 'dirty creature' and that his eyes clouded. I never expected someone like him to actually have feelings. But there were silent cracks slowly breaking his mask and I felt bad.  
I wondered why since, after all, he was the one asking for it, with all his leather and ass swaying and cockiness and tease, and I shouldn't feel sorry for telling the simple truth.

But the fine traits of his face froze, his eyelids closed several times as he looked at me, his expression suddenly rid of any malice, and I saw his pupils dilate, making his usually very clear eyes almost black. His lips were slightly parted, and although I expected him to reply with some mocking sentence of his, he said nothing.  
His traits weren't even tensed or angry, just simply blank, or at least that's what I thought until he brought a hand to his face to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. His hand was trembling.

Not for long though.  
But it wasn't rage or anything similar, which I would rather have expected from him.  
He stood up, and it wasn't because he was something like one inch or two taller than me that I felt suddenly threatened. His darkened stare, his whole body so clearly in control as his hand stopped trembling and that he uncurled from his sat position oh so slowly, I felt in such a bad situation that I almost expected what came next.  
A cold punishment.

His fist connected to my face. Hard. Painfully.  
I fell backward and landed half on my butt, half on my side. The blow had been amazingly fast and powerful and I could see stars dance behind my closed eyelids as I was almost knocked out. Clearly, I should watch my mouth around him, the guy was a fighter.  
I tried to stand up and was greatly helped by his hand gripping my shirt and pulling me on my feet, but the joy was short as he punched me in the stomach and let me fall on the pavement once more.  
Through my choked coughs, I could hear some people scream around us, and when I could breathe again and opened my eyes, I saw three guys try to intervene. But they didn't need to stop him, he was already calm as a lake, glaring at me as he stood still. But this time he wasn't smirking or anything, his face was so cold he could have frozen a volcano with a single look.

**Mello**  
I don't give a shit about what people think of me. Insults don't touch my confidence. I like who I am, the way I am, and if people have a problem with that, they just can fuck off.  
But sometimes, people need to be reminded that they're no better than me, or better, that I am not of a lesser kind than them. The redhead obviously thought high of himself, and he's been irritating me for far too long, so I finally decided that he should learn to respect people. Calling me 'dirty' meant too much for me to ignore the comment. It wasn't what it did to me, since it was doing nothing, but the meaning he put into that simple word.  
I was not a gay rights defender, I was way too little involved in opinions and clichés to give a damn. I was gay and I lived my life for myself, not in the eyes of people around me or for some search for approval.  
But putting my sexuality on a level that qualified it as something dirty, making me dirty as a person just pissed me off to no end. It was relinquishing something genetic to an abnormality, like if gay were responsible of their sexuality, like if gay sex, gay love, gay relationships were staining the earth and had no right to exist. If I should be ashamed of being gay, then I could as well bash him for his red hair, after all. It was all on the same level for me.

"You two, come with me. RIGHT NOW!"  
A security guy came to us screaming, and soon had us following him to the security center against our will as he pulled each of us by one arm.  
He practically threw us on a chair in the office where an older security officer was sat, behind a huge wooden desk, and stood behind us, his arms crossed.

I guess we were in trouble...


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note: **__Week end update! I got so many reviews I may be unable to reply individually to everyone unless you asked a question, I hope you won't mind! So I thank you all here publicly for following me, and I guess you'll be more pleased with an update than with a review reply, since I seem to lack time lately and am able to write only on week ends XD_

_This chapter is a bit less 'rhythmic' than the previous ones since I needed to put the situation in place for what's going to happen next and it required a lot of dialogs, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!_

_I have to precise that I'm taking into consideration the way university works in France even if the fic takes place in UCLA, so any situation that looks unfamiliar to US readers compared to US university is normal. Don't hesitate to give me tips if you have, but I don't think things work so differently between the two countries ^^_

_Oh and, last but not least (well... for me at least!), on may 6th, it was the first anniversary of my presence on this site. It feels weird, and I know some people are here for far longer, but it feels like home even in only one year ^^_

**_/!\ CONTEST /!\  
_**_I don't like the summary for this story, so I thought I would ask for help. Send me your summaries in a review (so everyone can read them and eventually vote later if I feel the need to set up a vote) if you want to participate (don't forget summaries are limited to 255 characters!).__  
__The winner will be rewarded by a oneshot on the topic of his/her choice, only requirements: it has to be MxM, and no character death (I already did it and I'm not ready to do it again)._**_  
THANK YOU!_**

**

* * *

Matt  
**Fucking bastard got us into trouble. Ok, I could admit I shouldn't have insulted him, but he shouldn't have reacted so violently either. Now, and according to the rules of the university, we'd be, at best, forced to community work for the university and I knew by a friend's experience that they usually charged your back with at least twenty five hours, and at worst, we'd be kicked out for public violence. More than losing my chance for education, being kicked out would break my parents' heart... and even if the fag was the one to beat me up, as soon as the security chief would know why he had punched me, I would be held as responsible as him, since homophobic insults weren't acceptable on the campus.

My stomach was aching, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing of my face. I was feeling like if my cheekbone was going to explode, if it wasn't already broken. The security chief handed me a tissue box, from which I stirred some to wipe the blood from my mouth.

"Such public aggressions cannot and won't be tolerated. No matter what the problem between you two is, there are better ways to solve things. I do believe that behind this attitude of young male animals on hormonal mess, we can still find two human gentlemen able to communicate with something else than their fists.  
Now, I will ask you your names so I can report you to the headmaster with my final decision concerning how your actions will be punished." The man looked in the fag's direction first, "And don't think you can get away with a fake name, I could easily find you, since you obviously stand out of the crowd."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the comment. I glanced at the blonde fag and he was scowling. _Oh fuck, you get what you deserve for dressing like a queen, don't look so indignated!_ I thought. His scowl turned to me when he heard me laugh as quietly as I could.  
"The warning counts for you too, Mr Red Hair." the security chief added.  
Hey! I'm not responsible of my hair, unlike him who _chose _to dress like a prostitute! I stopped laughing instantly, in synchronisation with the fag's own starting chuckle. Bastard.

"I'm waiting, boys." the man was growing impatient, his fingers tapping the desk in annoyance.  
"Mihael Keehl" the tone was different. No, the accent, actually. He had uttered his name with what was more than certainly the native accent of his name's origin. Russian? Swedish? I know I was still into stereotypes, but I couldn't imagine him being from anywhere else than the north or something, with his aryan looks. Oh, german maybe?

It was strange to put a name on him all of a sudden. I looked at him unconsciously. He glared back at me, but I was quickly reminded that I was supposed to give my name too.  
"Mail Jeevas" I replied to the older man that had just scolded me.  
He noted the names down on a large textbook, handed it to the other man who had been standing behind us all along and left the room as soon as he had the textbook in his hands, then went on with his paternalist rant.  
"Ok, Mihael, Mail, before I make a decision concerning what just happened, I will ask you to explain yourself, one after the other, and calmly. I won't tolerate any of you to interrupt the other."  
Hey, this guy didn't tolerate much, obviously.

Mihael (damn, why was I calling him by his name, it was just too weird...) and me looked at each other, none of us wanting to begin to talk, obviously.  
"Ok..." the chief rolled his eyes in front of our reluctance, "Mihael, why did you punch Mail?"

The blonde fag (way better name, to my opinion, his real name was making him too human for my clichés) stayed mute. Irremediably mute.  
I had expected him to complain about the homophobic insult, and I was readying myself for being kicked out of university, because I perfectly knew that homophobia would cost me a lot in that situation.  
But he didn't say a word, not even when the older man threatened him. I didn't understand why, although I could almost be grateful.  
So I stayed mute as well when the security chief tried to get an explanation from me, tired of the blond's silence.  
The other security guard came back with the textbook and handed it to the chief, along with what seemed to be our files from when we subscribed to the university.  
He browsed through the pages during long minutes, then finally concluded the case.

"I guess that without knowing the reason, I can't really make an opinion on the necessity of forcing you to leave the campus definitely, and I'm pretty sure that a few hours of community work will bring some answers since the secretary reported that you, Mail, have made a request to switch classes, which is, as I can deduce, related to both your inability to get along. So starting from next monday, you'll be assigned to various tasks that you will be given on a day to day basis from me personally, and that you will complete_ together._"

He insisted on the last word, and I felt my heart skip a beat, then two, then three... was I going to die of shock?  
Unfortunately no, my heart didn't seem like it was gonna spare me the humiliation of working with the blonde fag.  
And if I had been shocked at first, the smirk of the fag as he looked at me made me want to scream and run away. Oh fuck. Fucking fuck. His face was screaming sadism. I was sure he was gonna make me suffer with plans of gayness attacks on me during all the time we'd have to spend together. I shuddered. _Together._.. Urgh...

"You'll come to see me every morning at 7:30. And you can forget about switching classes, too."  
Shit. Double shit. Waking up early AND not being able to switch classes. What would be next? I was doomed, for sure.

**Mello**  
"How many hours?" I asked, wondering how long I would have to cope with the homophobe. Oh no, I didn't like what I just heard. Being forced to be near him made my hate rise, but fuck if I was gonna let it show. He looked more than shocked, and suddenly I knew how to take advantage of the situation. I wanted to assert my dominance over him, so I gave him the creepiest smile I could, one that said "I'm gonna make these hours of community work a hell for you". And it worked, judging by the way he lightly trembled and his eyes went wide. I know there was no way to escape these few hours in his company, so I'd have to make sure he wouldn't try anything funny during that time. None of us was pleased with the situation, but I wanted to make it even worse for him, and a little better for me. It wasn't my cup of tea to just hate someone, I had to make him miserable on top of that, that was way more appealing.  
And he deserved it. It was all his fault, after all.

"Let's start with thirty hours. I'll see at the end of that time if you need more or not." the man stated, dismissing us.  
A few hours, huh?

I left the office quickly, hurrying for the class that probably had already begun. As I sat in the amphitheatre, I saw Layla at the first row. Bitch and teacher's shoes licker.  
I also noticed that the redhead was nowhere in sight.  
When the bell rang, I gathered my stuff and left. All of this was putting me in a good mood, although I didn't exactly know why, so I nonchalantly walked across the campus (ok, sexily swayed my ass) to a tree and sat against the trunk. I stirred a chocolate bar from my bag, plugged my earphones, and put the music of my Iphone on random before closing my eyes and savouring my sweet treat. A light breeze made my hair tickle my face, it smelled like fresh cut grass, and it was just warm enough not to be_ too_ warm to my likings. For once, I didn't feel like studying although I had two hours to kill before the afternoon classes, and I didn't want to eat at the cafeteria, the food there was insipid, greasy and not balanced (God, they even put tons of mayonnaise in salads that were supposed to be healthy!).  
I was not a diet freak, but with all the chocolate I ate, I was lucky I practised a physically demanding sport like sambo because I'd be fat otherwise. So I had to be careful about the rest of the food I ate, and even if I wasn't only living on salad and water, I needed to eat balanced.

Puberty had been a hell for me, fortunately not for long, but still.  
I was fourteen when my voice started to drop, my hairs started to... well... begin to fight between all three of them (I told you I wasn't hairy) for a place on my crotch, and my body started changing. The skinny kid I was, that was used to the awfully fat but tasty german food, combined with a good share of junk food and sugary drinks and my usual amount of chocolate, gained weight. Yes, I began to get fat. Actually, I, as a 160cm tall or something kid at that time, went from 40kg to 65. Horrible, you said it.  
I'm not the kind to judge people by how much they weight, and I sure wouldn't mock anyone who's fat, but me? No, thanks. I already knew I was gay, at 14, and just like girls wanting to date guys, I wanted to date... guys and so I wanted to look nice.  
Only four months later and the extra weight was forgotten, but I realised at that time that my freshly turned adult body was now playing against me.

Just like when you're sleeping heavily, lost in a wonderful dream, and that the alarm clock rings to remind you to get up for a boring day, Layla's squeaks, covering the music in my ears, popped my bubble and made me unpleasantly come back from my kids memories.  
I cracked one eye open and met the scene: the redhead was coming from an end of the campus's grass area, Layla from the other, and in the distance, she was screaming murder at the sight of his bruised face. She almost hung herself to his neck when she finally was close enough, but he pushed her away lightly, apparently embarrassed by the people staring at the loud chick.  
I cut the music, wanting to hear what they were saying.

"Matt! What happened?" she whined. Matt. Now that I thought about it, why did he make himself be called Matt when he said his name was Mail, a little earlier?  
Mello was my nickname and Matt probably was one too, although it sounded like a name more than a nickname, unlike mine. And he didn't know I was called Mello. I smirked. I knew more about him than he did about me.

He didn't say anything about our earlier altercation to Layla, dismissing the question with a 'nevermind' in a tone so annoyed that I wondered if he had seen me, and if he didn't want to admit the insults in front of me.  
But she looked straight at me although the redhead hadn't. Blame women and their sixth sense, she knew.  
Or she suspected me, to the least. Because my own face was free of any damage, and what she said next proved that she imagined the redhead like a super invincible knight. Let me laugh.  
"Whoever you fought with, I bet he's looking ten times worse than you do!" she squealed. What is it with women that make them think they are attractive when they play the naïve admirer? They just look plain stupid.

He looked at me, then told her he had to talk to me. Talk to me? What the fuck?  
She gave me a despising once over, and insisted: "We still have stuff to do... if you see what I mean." she purred, coming closer to him, almost glueing herself to his chest. I prayed for him to listen to hormones call and go to fuck her in his oh-so-awesome-car (even his car is a proof he's a macho, to my opinion) but no, fate had decided he would come to talk to me. Fuck, I didn't want to hear what he had to say. Hello fate? I still hated him you know...


	7. Chapter 7

_**Note:** Weekly update, and profile page updated for those interested, with links to the wonderful fanart my bride Miharu Is Haruka's Love Child made for one of my other fics Lithium ^^_**  
**_I also updated Feed My Frankenstein._****

_So... will Matt and Mello ever stop hating each other? Dun dun dun!_**  


* * *

Matt  
**I hadn't gotten in Layla's pants in a decent amount of time, not that she wasn't willing, but circumstances had made it impossible until now. Therefore, I had lost any interest I had in her. I wasn't one for sticking to one girl for too long, whether I got her or not. Well, to be honest, I always got them. But this time I just didn't care, there were plenty of other girls here and my mind wasn't focused on that lately, which was a premiere to me since the end of junior high school.  
No, the object of my... attention... horror should I say... was the blonde fag. Mihael. Blonde fag.  
I didn't exactly know why he had shut up in the security booth, but I felt enough relief at the thought that I wouldn't disappoint my parents by being kicked out of university for such a motive as homophobia that, although I blamed it, my mind was playing me the bad trick to want to thank him for that.

Layla, in a perfect timing, came my way. Great. I discovered, to my surprise, that feeling her boobs squished against me as she reminded me of how she would gladly open her legs for me in the minute made nothing to me. I was finding her quite annoying, to the least. Her friend waiting for her a few feet away, on the contrary... well, I'd probably take a chance with her later.

Getting away from the girls, I walked to where the fag was sat. I was feeling incredibly nauseated, but since I saw him there, I had made the decision to talk to him, and I knew that the sick feeling in my stomach would subside as long as I wouldn't have talked to him, so I'd better do it now.  
I stopped when my feet were a few inches from him, but he wouldn't look up.  
"I know you saw me." I told him, trying to catch his attention, but he purposely ignored me. It couldn't be the earphones preventing him to hear me, I could tell his phone laid in his lap wasn't playing any music at the moment.  
"Ok." I sighed, sitting beside him. I couldn't believe I was doing that. Sitting beside him, I mean. Me, with so few distance between a fag and me...

"Listen..." I began, not exactly knowing how to bring the topic up.  
His arm shifted a bit to put the music on, and I heard it blasting from his earphones. More than the fact that he was: one, soon going deaf; two: listening to my favourite band and therefore making me realise that I had the same tastes in music as a gay guy; and three, humiliating me, as if the situation wasn't already enough, I felt his naked arm against my own arm's skin, and my hairs stood straight in protest. Ack!  
I instinctively rubbed my arm. Wrong move.

I had come to thank him, and I, I knew it, had just despised him with such a move.  
The music stopped immediately, and although I thought he would punch me again, he just turned his head oh-so-slowly, and glared at me. He pulled the earphones out of his ears, letting them fall in his lap.  
"If you came to insult me, don't bother, I don't care." he said, blankly, before going back to ignoring me, closing his eyes and resting against the trunk of the tree again.  
"You didn't look like you didn't care, a little earlier." I replied. I don't know why, I was here to say something positive, but he had a gift to set me off, and I couldn't help but snap at him.  
I saw him stiffen, and once again I readied myself for the blow, but nothing came.

"It had nothing to do with the fact I took what you said to heart, because it wasn't the case, you're not the first one, and probably not the last one that will insult my sexuality. I just meant to close this little mouth of yours because you're way too self assured and narrow minded." he spat, still keeping his eyes closed.

I didn't really expect that, although I knew I had gone too far this morning. But it made sense, since he had never seemed to be the kind of guy to take shit from anyone, from what I knew of him. But something snapped in me at his words. I was beginning to feel something different, something like guilt but not exactly. Ok, I was feeling guilty, because it suddenly occurred to me that it was as right to insult him as to insult black people or fat people or... red haired people.

When I was a kid, I've been mocked for my red hair more than once. Kids can be cruel, and I got all the clichés about redheads thrown at my face from kindergarten to junior high: redheads stink, redheads are angels of Satan, redheads bring bad luck...  
So I could relate to that, to what I did this morning. I wasn't proud of that, all of a sudden, not that I was before, but now, I could somehow understand I didn't have to bash him for being gay. It wasn't a matter of being a homophobe, which I was... it was that I didn't have to state it so blatantly and despise him in words. Even if he said I hadn't hurt him, maybe I had, of would have with another person, and anyway, yeah, I was as narrow minded as the people that insulted me for having red hair. Although I was born with it, and I couldn't change it expect if I dyed my hair, unlike him who could at least try to change.

But it wasn't only guilt, it was shame. It's scary how I had put myself on the other side, the side of people that think it's normal to insult others about a particularity they have, when I had been on the side of insulted people before. It was scary because if the victim becomes the attacker, then something is not right. The victim should learn the lesson and not change side.  
"Sorry..." I whispered. I didn't know what to tell him. I was still disliking him, but still, I couldn't get away without apologizing and thanking him, that was the least I could do. I kinda deserved what he had done to me.

His eyes, that he had closed once again, opened, and he stared at me, like waiting for me to go on, so I did.  
"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have told you that. I can't help the way I feel toward gays, but it wasn't a reason to insult you, so I apologize. And thank you for not telling the security chief anything. I would've been kicked out and I owe you a big one for that." I said, fast, because I needed to get it out, and I didn't want him to interrupt me.  
His reply took me aback.  
"What do you expect from me?"  
I was the one to stare this time.  
"N... nothing, why this question?" I stuttered. Shit, he was making me nervous with his piercing eyes on me.  
"Apologizing won't make you less a dick to me, no pun intended this time." he looked away, his back relaxing against the trunk once again. BASTARD!  
"I apologize and that's all you have to say?" my voice raised, and really, if I hadn't known I didn't stand a chance against him, I would have hit him straight in the face.  
"Do you like me, I mean, the fact I am gay?" he asked out of the blue. I didn't know where he was going.

"Of course not, and you know it." I replied, trying to understand.  
"Just like I hate you and all the cocky attitude you wrap around yourself. You feel sorry, but you still hate me, and I accept your apologies, but I still think you're a dick. Understand now?"  
"Uhm... " was all I could mutter. I didn't get it at all. And I hated feeling that dense more than I hated him at the moment, which was saying something. That guy had the ability to make me feel bad with myself.

**Mello**  
God was he stupid. I would have loved to think that it was my sexy presence that was turning his mind upside down to the point he wasn't getting what I was trying to make him understand, but unfortunately, he was just a dork, it seemed.  
"What I mean, since I have to explain the obvious, is that maybe, although we hate each other, we can act like adults from now on, since we have to spend thirty hours together. We'll have to cope with each other no matter if we want it or not."

He seemed to agree, and we stayed silent for a while. It was weird. I glanced at him, wondering why he was staying here.  
He looked at me, then at his hands, then at me again, and he flashed me a grin that would have made me melt if it hadn't irritated me to no end.  
"What?" I snapped, as I saw him refrain a laughter.  
"Sorry man, I was just thinking that if you were a chick... well... you'd make others chick jealous, you know, perfect skin, long lashes, blue eyes and all..."  
Ok, now I was melting. Not for the compliment, but for the fact he had looked at me enough to see my perfect skin, lashes and blue eyes.  
"For your information, know that chicks are already jealous, even if I'm a guy."  
And I insisted on guy.  
"I guess you could easily be taken for a chick..." he chuckled. Arg. How I wished I could slap him right now!  
"Being gay doesn't make me any less of a man." I replied, shifting so my left hand rested on the grass and my face was mere inches from his, "I wasn't the one to end up sprawled on my back. Twice." I added, reminding him how weak he had been against me, before resting back against the tree. It had the merit to shut him up, because he looked down again. Not so cocky anymore, hm?

"Why are you gay? I mean... how... how did it happen?" he asked all of a sudden. That was the stupidest question I had ever heard about homosexuality.  
I didn't reply, ignoring him. Maybe he would go away and leave me alone. I didn't want to talk to him. He had apologised, I had accepted his apologies, that didn't mean we actually had to take the conversation further.  
I put the music on once again, declaring the talk over. He seemed to get the message and stood up.  
I felt a bit bad as he spared me a sad puppy look before leaving.  
As he walked away, I stated, loud enough for him to hear me: "It happened when my mother got pregnant."  
He turned around, looked at me questioningly for a few seconds, and I could tell he was trying to understand. Then he turned around again and left for good.  
Did he get it? I couldn't tell, but he couldn't be so dense, could he?

**Matt**  
Lying on my bed, listening to the latest album of the band the fag and me seemed to both like, I was thinking about our conversation. I stood up and walked to my desk, lighting my old computer on. I had had a hard time installing a DSL line on it, it wasn't even able to handle an internet connexion at first, old as it was, but after a few knocks up I had been able to link it to an old modem and surf the web, stealing some neighbour's wifi since there was no way my family would afford a provider subscription.  
_"It happened when my mother got pregnant."_  
The words kept on looping in my mind. I typed a few words in Google and soon plenty of pages related to my search appeared.  
I read one, then two, then made some other researches, and I realised two hours later something that set a new light on things that had been bothering me since this afternoon.

He was born like this. Gay, I mean. He hadn't chosen to be, it was genetic. That's what he had meant when he said it happened when his mother got pregnant. Just like my red hair happened when my father's spermatozoide met my mother's ovule. I didn't know that. I was stunned because I suddenly got all the horror of his situation slapping me in the face. It wasn't his fault, according to serious medical researches, there was nothing he could do against it, he had to live with it. I felt pity for him.  
I also felt my homophobia slightly lessen. I couldn't hold against him, or any other homosexual person, something they had no control over. I was still feeling a bit disgusted because it didn't seem normal to me to be that way, but the part of me that wanted to bash them for being so openly abnormal was gone.

**Mello**  
I was heading for the security chief's office the next morning, five minutes before the time we had to be there when the redhead lightly touched my shoulder to catch my attention, as he arrived behind me. I was surprised by the fact he had _touched_ me. By his own free will. Were we making progress?

"Hi." he said, smiling sheepishly. He looked like he had something to say, so I spun on my heels to face him, ready to listen. Oh God, I should have kept on walking. No progress at all, but the stupidest rant of all times.  
"I... made some researches yesterday, because of what you said and... I'm sorry... I didn't know man..." he stopped, and even if I wasn't angry yet, I was kinda annoyed by his insistence on calling me 'man' like if we were pals or something, "I mean, I didn't know that it was genetic and all, that you didn't chose to be that way... must be hard..."

I began to boil. Ok, he had understood what I meant, but despite that, we hadn't made the tiniest progress. He was feeling sorry for me. Like if I had a cancer or something.  
"It's not hard, except when some stupid shithead tells me stuff like being sorry for me, because there's nothing to be sorry about, _man_." I seethed. He must have seen my fists turn to balls because he took a step backward, "I'm totally fine with being gay, I'm even happy with it, something you don't seem to get is that yes, it's genetic, but no, it's not a disease or something I should be pitied for. Or should I pity you for being heterosexual? When I see Layla, I really feel sorry for you, _man_."

His eyes left the spot they were staring on the ground to look at me. I could tell his mind was thinking at lightning speed, by the way his eyes scrutinized me. I didn't exactly get what or how he concluded from what I said, but he suddenly asked me:  
"Well then, can you stop acting like her around me and trying to get into my pants?"

He had the point. I had to admit that I didn't have anything to envy the brunette, I had been acting around him exactly like she did, trying to get him. That didn't mean I liked him being right.  
"I guess we can work from that." I replied, before closing the distance between the security chief's office and me. But I didn't miss his self satisfied smirk when he followed beside me. Oh God, I hated him. Probably.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Note: **Weekly update as usual! _

_To reply to K: Layla is ragged on because it's her purpose in the story, nothing more ;)  
If she was a nice girl, she wouldn't be easy to hate XD  
And she needs to be a bitch, for something that will happen in later chapters ^^_**  


* * *

Mello**  
Cutting the hedge around the outdoor basket playground? What the fuck is that shit of a task?  
I didn't say a word when the security guy assigned us to the first of the nighmarish stuff we'd have to do in the next days as our punishement.  
He dismissed us since classes were about to begin after what I believed would happen every day that we'd have to come and get our task assignment in his office: a loooong rant about how the work we'd do would greatly benefit the university and its equipment and how it was supposed to help us see that there are more important things in the world than fight, and that we would learn to be adult and bla bla bla...

I noticed, as I strode to the amphitheatre, that the redhead was following me like my shadow. It was kinda weird from him. First, he touched me on his own free will a little earlier, and now, he wasn't even putting distance between him and me like he used to do. Somehow, I understood it was his way to show he had something to say to me.  
I stopped walking, wanting to face him to ask what this following was about, but I didn't have time to complete my turning around, he bumped into me, totally not looking in front of him as he was walking, his eyes glued to his toes.  
I lost my balance, and fell backward. Even if I'd had the reflex to grip him not to fall, it was too late since it took me by surprise, and as our eyes crossed, I saw hesitation in his, but he didn't move, and I landed on my butt.  
Second time I hurt my ass because of him dammit!  
But he immediately held out his hand to me to help me get back on my feet, although I could tell he was uncomfortable.

I was about to throw some sarcasm at his face, but he looked at me in a way that kept the words stuck on the tip of my tongue. I stared back and discovered a whole mind battling inside of eyes I knew were beautiful, but that I had never seen under this light.  
I could see how he was taking careful steps to understand something beyond his way of thinking, to figure things out although these things were things he disliked, and all the hesitation behind the acts, all the will to go forward with ideas that were sticking him in a static state of mind.  
And the sarcasm tickling the tip of my tongue got scratched away by a simple thing he said suddenly:  
"Sorry ma... Mihael."

He had almost called me _man_ once again, and hearing him pronounce my real first name with his eyes looking straight at me made me understand all of a sudden what was that 'something more' I had wondered about that he got that girls were reduced to melted cackling chicks when he talked to them, and that took nothing more than five seconds to take effect.  
I could almost have melted if I hadn't worried for my sanity at that point. Ok, he was all attitude and self confidence on purpose, and took great advantage of that to get girls, obviously, but the 'something more' was all natural, and it was what made him stand out, and awfully irresistible. It was something between a softness in his eyes and voice and the way his eyes lit with real genuine feelings, be they apologies right now or a simple sincere smile. Behind the cocky mask, I imagined a nice guy hiding.

He had to be, after all, I mean, who would take the time and effort to understand something they despised and try to make up for being a dork? And I knew I had to be a bit more open minded myself instead of shutting him off, because he was obviously willing to understand what made me the way I was although he hated it, because he had helped me on my feet after a second thought, although he had initially hesitated and let me fall, because he had not ran away but followed me. I guess you can't expect people to change if you don't let them.

It annoyed me, because I didn't want to mother him on his way to accepting (maybe, I could be wrong...) that gays are not something he should be disgusted by, or fear, or whatever. If he had a problem with that, he could as well make his way to opening his eyes alone, that was none of my concern. But I was afraid that I didn't really have a choice, since we would be spending some time together in the next days and that I couldn't avoid his possible questions and stuff. So I could as well answer his questions, that was not a really big price to pay, and it was probably better than an awkward silence I sensed coming when we'd be in presence of each other.

And I knew right at that moment that I shall never ever become his friend, or be close to him in any way, because it would be sealing myself in a hopeless greed for him. I was angry at myself for letting him get to me that way, but I couldn't do anything against it, no matter how much I tried to remember his cocky side I hated, all I could picture in my mind were his eyes.

**Matt**  
My mind screamed in horror when I touched him so... fully. I mean, I bumped into him so hard that I felt his torso against mine, I even felt his rib bones and his muscles and shit, it was nothing I wanted. I was only getting used not to feel nausea being near him in a short distance, and then, _this_.  
I saw him fall backward but I couldn't make the move that would have prevented him to land on the floor. I half thought he was sporty enough to get his balance back, and the other half of my brain paralysed me because of the unwanted contact.  
But I immediately felt bad for just letting him like this without a helping hand and although I didn't want that contact, I held out my hand to him. His hand seemed so thin in mine, but the grip so strong as he pulled to get back on his feet that I got struck by the contradiction. It wasn't the first time though, because all in him was contradiction.  
The fact he was obviously trained to combat and probably able to rip anyone in two, although he looked so thin and almost girly (did I say almost?), the fact he looked so badass but was a queer...

I wouldn't admit it, but I was feeling something in me that I was trying to will away: I wanted to know more about him. He was starting to stir some interest in me as a... person.

Yes, that was it. He was slowly losing the aspect that made me stop cold in his presence, to become human, somehow.  
Using his real name hadn't even been strange, I don't know, maybe all my conception of gays was moulded in ignorance and 'what-they-say', maybe the only example I'd had until now was not the norm.  
I was still disgusted to touch him, and still not really willing to stay too long with him not to be assimilated to someone gay, but he, as a human being, seemed interesting.

I remember that gay couple that lived next door when I was ten. They were loud at night, they were blatantly kissing with tongues and saliva and groping in the stairs dirtily, on the doorstep, outside and everywhere, cheating on each other (or what I thought at first) by bringing home and being loud with other guys, and then I noticed that sometimes, more and more often, they were three or four being loud on the other side of the wall, and they would often fuck at night in the apartment complex parking lot, until one of them died after I saw him deperish other the years, from AIDS.  
To me, gays were animals driven by sex. Disgusting sex. And full of diseases. Period.

We'd probably never end up friends because I didn't want a gay friend, I didn't want people to think I was if I ever hung out with him, and...  
And why was he looking at me this way?  
His eyes, that were terrible if you ask, so clear, so cold, so giving you the impression they were stripping you to the core, softened all of a sudden, diving straight into mine like if he was watching a movie play, with so much attention it made me nervous.  
I understood right away (for once) that he could see through me. I usually wear my goggles and realised I wasn't at that precise moment. He was taking me off guard and I wasn't used to be looked at like this. Girls don't look at me straight in the eyes like this. They bat their eyelashes, giggle while they look away shyly, or look at me in awe (I'm that awesome), but they don't scrutinize me.  
Only my mother does that, actually. She looks straight at me and guesses _everything._

But the softness didn't bide well, I thought. Because first, it didn't suit him. And second, I knew the effect my eyes had on girls, and since he was gay... it could as well be the same, and I didn't, really didn't, want that.  
I had to say something to cut it off. Anything.  
"I'm sorry you hurt your ass once again because of me..."  
Not that. Fuck.  
He smirked, and I should have known better.  
"Next time I hope it'll be yours, I usually don't take bottom."  
Aaaack! I didn't want to know that detail dammit!  
My eyes went wide and he chuckled, turning around and heading for the amphitheatre.  
Ok, that was just a joke, breathe in, breathe out.

We entered the amphitheatre and as he took a seat at one of the highest rows, I followed and sat beside him.  
I thought it would be rude to split ways and sit at another row, he would probably think I was ashamed to be with him and would get mad at me, and since we had to go cut the hedge of the basket playground later, it would do no good.  
I _was_ ashamed, but not as much as I thought I'd be. Some part of me was inwardly telling people to fuck off if they had a problem with that. My mom would be proud of me, heh.

You could wonder why I had ended up so homophobic when none of my parents, and certainly not my mother, were. My mother was the kind to accept everyone and everything as they were, even housing all the stray cats of the neighbourhood no matter how weird they looked, with three paws or a cut tail, a missing ear or inviting homeless people in the apartment to give them a proper meal. She had a big heart like that.

Mihael looked at me with a slightly questioning look but stared back at his notes a second later. It didn't occur to me that he probably didn't want me here, and as the class began, I didn't have time to think more of it.  
I stretched my legs in front of me, crossing them at ankle level, crossed my arms too, making myself as comfortable as possible against the hard wood of the seat as I leant back a bit, and listened.

**Mello**  
I was quite irritated by the fact he had sat next to me. Did he think we had to stick together all day long because we had something that required both our presence after class?  
Ok, I shouldn't get so mad, after all, it was better than see him put distance between us, which would have made me even more mad.  
As the class began, though, my irritation grew as he obviously didn't give a fuck about the lesson, since he just sat there legs stretched and not taking a single note. I noticed he didn't have anything with him for classes, actually. What the fuck? I could only guess a cigarette pack and a lighter in his left pocket, and what was probably keys in the other, nothing more except the wallet in his rear pocket (and no, I was _not_ checking him out discreetly, and _not _that particular area).

He sat beside me even in the next class, but still he didn't take a single note. I really wonder why he bothered sitting here if he didn't give a fuck about the lesson. He could as well stay home. But for some reason, he had seemed really worried to be kicked out when he thanked me for not spitting the truth out in the security booth. Well, whatever.

He did go another way at lunch time though. I followed him with my eyes, but he disappeared at a corner. I had brought my own lunch since I didn't feel like putting my feet in the cafeteria anymore: healthy sandwiches, water and chocolate. I sat under what I decided would be my usual tree and ate, gazing at the people around as they passed by.  
I was done with my sandwiches and attacking my chocolate when a sight that made me want to tear my own eyeballs from their orbits with a spoon appeared.

The redhead was walking nonchalantly with an arm around a brunette's shoulders. A brunette that wasn't Layla. Actually, I recognized her as Layla's friend from the day before. I felt a slight pinch in my chest. The guy was moving fast. They were heading for the parking lot and disappeared as fast as they had come.

Half an hour later, I was out of water and thirsty, so I opted for the cafeteria to buy a bottle despite my resolutions of not coming there anymore, because the nearest drinks vending machine was way farther on the campus. I crossed the parking lot separating the grass area from the cafeteria, and spotted the red Camaro as I walked by.  
It was moving. Not moving like driving, but moving like up and down slightly. I didn't need to see anything to know what they were doing in here, but this time it really made me angry.

He was a slut. He was fucking a girl. He was fucking someone that wasn't me. He was doing it just like this in the middle of the parking lot. All of this put me in a rage I couldn't, but would have to control. Because I knew it would happen often, and there was nothing I could do against it.

I bought my bottle of water, and consciously took the way that would make me climb up the grass behind the parking, not too far from the red Chevrolet. For some reason, I couldn't help but torture myself by wanting to _see_.  
I couldn't see really well at first, I wasn't that close, and didn't want them to see me. But as they shifted, I saw her, forehead against one of the windows on the backseat of the car, bent forward, and him taking her from behind. I even saw the beginning of his butt as his pants were slightly falling lower than his waist. In any other situation, I would have gotten a boner, but the fact he was doing that with a girl didn't make it at all. I wasn't even one percent bisexual, I liked dicks, and dicks only, and heterosexual sex wasn't something that turned me on. It could, sometimes, depending on the situation, like the first time I had seen the redhead with Layla in this same car, because he was hot, but now it was different. It hurt.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Note: **I'm very late at updating this but I was busy as hell, but expect another chapter in the next days to make up for it, and the come back of week end updates, work should get better for me now._**  
**_  
To answer some comments from unlogged reviewers, yes, Matt is not likeable, who said main characters had to be? The aim of this fic is to leave the "Matt and Mello are meant to be together from the beginning, they just don't realise it" stuff (that I don't blame since I often write them this way, but some change is good sometimes). And no, it's not Layla's fault, she may be easy but she has feelings, I'm not aiming for this fic to be misogynous, just let the chapters come, you won't have the whole side of a character in a few ones, she's not just a slutty girl opening her legs easily or a character I'm using to innocent Matt from his bad actions, he'll have to assume the way he acts sooner or later, believe me ;)_****

_Also, although I thought this fic would be more like my MarshMello one, it is obvious (to me) that it's gonna be wayyyy longer, since ideas and plots keep flooding my head, so I will of course go deeper in characters and plots, therefore, you have to understand that I'm still setting things in place, even if it's already chapter 9, it's really only beginning. Who knows, it could reach Lithium's length? _**  


* * *

Matt**  
Fuck, she was hot. No complex, no moral, she almost dragged me to my car and stripped by herself. Why would I refuse?  
When we both exited my car, I briefly saw Mihael walk away on the campus, a water bottle in his hand, and Layla come our way. When she spotted us, her face contorted in horror, and Mihael stopped in the distance, clearly smirking while looking at us. Bastard. He knew as well as me what was coming for me. Layla looked like an angry tiger and the way she firmly walked in my and her (soon-not-to-be-anymore) friend's direction didn't announce anything nice.

"Matt!" she shrieked, "Annie! How could you do that to me?"  
She was yelling, her high pitched voice mixing with sobs as tears began to run on her cheeks. I was starting to feel annoyed. Did she really have to alert the whole parking lot?  
They began screaming at each other, then insults fused and since they were clearly putting me out of their fight, which was totally okay with me since I didn't want to be the focus of the drama they were putting up right here, I discreetly left the ring, leaving the two girls ending their friendship in the parking lot.

Since one of the options was going to the cafeteria, and I had already eaten, and the other was to go back on the campus, I opted for the second one. Not totally pleased since Mihael was still standing there, not smirking anymore but looking at me with a hard glare.  
I shrugged as I walked past him. "Ah... girls will be girls..." I simply said as he didn't take his eyes off me.  
I wondered if it was a misplaced thing to say since he was gay, but oh well...  
"I wouldn't blame them, actually." he replied. What the fuck?  
"What?" I blurted out, surprised.  
He seemed to think for a moment, then added: "Don't tell me you're totally fine with what you did?"  
"What are you talking about?"  
He stared at me for a few seconds and left without a word, sighing.  
What did I do?

It seems we didn't have the same classes in the afternoon, because I didn't meet him once.  
I only saw him arrive near the hedge fence we had to cut at 5pm like we were supposed to. I had been waiting here since 4, and had made a crochet to the guardian's lodge to pick up the tools in the meanwhile since I had been bored like hell and wanted us to begin as fast as possible when Mihael would be there. I needed to get out of here as soon as possible because my father was waiting for me to work with him as usual, and I had already made up a lie as a reason for being late in the next weeks, but I couldn't be home too late anyway.  
I was getting dizzy at the sole thought of my timetable. I had to struggle with so many things after class, the community work, helping my father at the garage and repairing stuff at the leather store, I would be lucky if I ended safe out of it all without my parents knowing anything.

Mihael picked up huge scissors from the ground and began to cut the fence without even sparing me a look. I left the spot where I was sat and had no choice than to do the same. I regretted that I didn't begin without him, even if we were supposed to do this together.

"Didn't you get electric stuff or something to cut that shit?" he asked all of a sudden when the scissors he was holding resisted on a particularly thick branch for the umpteenth time.  
"Did you really think they'd let us use chainsaws?" I spat angrily, unnerved by his disdainful tone.  
He glared at me and really, I was happy they didn't let us use chainsaws.

After some more silence, only disturbed by the click of the cutting tools and a few swears from him as he struggled with the fence (I was quite proud that I was more manual than he was, something I was winning over him for once), I itched to resume our conversation from a little earlier on the campus, if it could be called a conversation.  
I didn't like that he had seemed to scold me.  
"What did you mean, earlier?" I said tentatively, "I mean, about the girls..."

He turned around to face me, the scissors still hanging in his right hand, along his side, and his gaze went from questioning to angry in a split second.  
"You can't be such a jerk that you don't see the bad you did, can you?"  
It was stupid, but at that moment I was more focused on his accent than on what he said, for some reason beyond my understanding.  
"What bad? That's not my fault if the second chick wanted me, Layla should've been faster, what do you want me to tell you?"  
"That maybe you could have guessed that it would hurt Layla to see you with her friend when you were still dating her? That you don't care for people's feelings?"  
His tone was cold and I wondered who he thought he was to talk to me like that.  
"I wasn't dating Layla, and her friend didn't seem to be really bothered with their friendship. They're just easy girls, what did they expect?" I raised my hands helplessly. It wasn't my fault!  
"Maybe Layla was easy and a bit vulgar, and her friend is a perfect slut, but that doesn't mean Layla has no feelings, maybe she considered you were dating, and even if she didn't, she didn't deserve to be treated like that. It's just... you're the slut, actually."  
He mumbled something else that I didn't catch, turning his back to me and resuming cutting (or should I say slaughter) the fence angrily.  
"What? What did you just say?" I demanded, sure that he had insulted me. Anger was rising in me, and I hated that. More because I knew he was right than for what he had said, actually, which made things worse.  
He turned around again, glared at me and repeated.  
"I said that it's a pity that such a cute guy is ugly as shit inside."  
I felt the hairs of my forearms raise in protest to the comment. But I didn't feel like fighting him although he was greatly getting on my nerves, I knew it was a lost cause.

He threw the scissors on the ground and sat on the concrete.  
"We've got work to do, you know?" I reminded him.  
"No shit, really?" he said, looking at the whole fence that we had only began with. He stirred a bottle of water from his bag and drank from it.  
I sat beside him, but at a reasonable distance. He handed his bottle to me but I declined.  
"I'm not thirsty, it's not because you... well..." I stuttered.  
"I'm past caring if you do something because I'm gay or because you just don't wanna do it." he stated simply.  
"Sorry." was all I could say at that moment. It had probably been stupid from me to explain why I didn't want water anyway.  
"Stop acting like a jerk, you won't have to be sorry then." he stood up, leaving the bottle on the ground and picking back up the scissors.

We progressed with the fence at a good pace, each going opposite ways, and even if at the beginning the silence had been uncomfortable, quickly the distance between Mihael and me was long enough that we wouldn't have been able to talk even if we had wanted. But it was obvious none of us wanted anyway.

**Mello**  
This guy had no sense of human relationships, it seemed.  
I had seen a glimpse of guilt in his eyes as we talked, but it was, to me, just like with the fact I gay: he knew it was bad to think or act like he did, he needed to be reminded of it otherwise he just acted like a total moron, but still, he didn't progress an inch. I wondered briefly, while I was cutting the fence and lost in deep thinking, what his family was like. I imagined his father like a rude homophobe, and his mother was probably a narrow minded housewife that thought her son was the king of the world, raising him like he was the center of the universe.

Still barely focused on the fence, my mind wandered to places I didn't want it to, but I couldn't stop it until it was too late. I remembered Mail on the backseat of his car with the girl called Annie, and soon, Annie wasn't there anymore, it was me he was taking, his hot ass moving in rhythm with the thrusts and... wait, what? _He_ was taking me?  
My mind screeched to a halt before reversing roles, and soon_ I_ was thrusting in him, my left hand gripping his hip firmly while my right one jerked him roughly. I could almost feel his pubic hairs against my fingers.  
But no, it was only the leaves of the fence tickling me, as I came back to my senses.

We were now at a good distance from each other, and it was lucky because I could see the head of my penis threatening to pop out of my leather pants. Discreetly, I breathed in and out to will my erection away, while pushing my member back down under the lacings with a thumb.  
Fortunately, I managed to calm down and stop thinking about such things, and I became flacid again. Damn, he was a real turn on, moron or not.  
I probably would have to buy leather pants with a higher waist next time. I could sense this would happen more than often if my mind kept on looping this particular event on and on.

At some point, we were as far as possible considering the shape of the fence, and we had cut half of it. I checked my watch and noticed it was already 7 pm. I don't know if we were supposed to finish with the fence in one go, but I was done for today, I could feel the blisters form on my palms, and I was pretty sure the guardian had given us such shitty scissors on purpose.  
I strode to where I had left my water bottle, thirsty as hell, and drank a long shot, watching as Mail stopped cutting too and walked to me, eyeing the bottle. It was no surprise he was thirsty too, it was hot and sunny, and as he came closer, I noticed his neck was red. He was sunburnt.  
I didn't have that problem with my long hair, and even if I was a blue eyed blond with a fair skin, I strangely didn't have a fragile skin, added to the fact that since I had arrived in California, I used sunscreen everyday because I wasn't used to so much sun in Germany.

I handed him the bottle and he took it, not hesitating this time. Actually, he surprised me by acting totally normally, drinking from where I did, and handing the bottle back to me with a 'thank you'.  
He looked at his own watch and his eyes became as wide as plates.  
"Shit, I should already be back home!" he exclaimed.  
He began to run to the parking lot, and disappeared without a goodbye. Not that I cared, actually.

I picked up my messenger back, threw my empty bottle in the nearest thrashcan, and left with the scissors in hand. I left them to the guardian's lodge at the campus' entry and headed back home. I was not in a hurry and I liked walking around since the way between the campus and my living place was really nice, so I took my time.  
As I was at the end of the street where the campus resided, I saw a red Camaro drive back to the campus, do a U-turn and slide along the pavement where I was, stopping at my level.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Note: **Sorry, I was unable to write during the week, but at least I'm keeping my promise of a week end update ^^_  
_Now things will begin to happen, it's only beginning in this chapter!_**  


* * *

Mello**  
The passenger's window slid down and I saw Mail bent over the passenger's seat, looking at me.  
"Hey, I'm sorry, it's quite late and I didn't even ask you if you needed a drive home, I went away a bit fast..."  
I stopped walking, and looked at him with disbelief. What was that attention for? I mean, _he_, Mister Homophobe himself, cared for a gay eventually being late home? I was actually speechless, wondering if that was a trick he was playing to me, or if he was sincere.  
My luck, he was sincere. His eyes told me so. He had that look, the one that made me melt two times already, the first time I saw him in the amphitheatre and the second time was when he had called me for the first time by my real name.

So I melted again, totally aware that it would always be this way each time he would have that particular look. I didn't want it, but I was helpless. Fuck it.

He opened the passenger's door as he saw me hesitate, and I found myself sat in the Camaro although I wasn't late at all. I hated the way I felt. It was like if I was changing at his contact, unable to be coherent under his gaze. So I did what was necessary to put things back into place.  
"I'm not late but since you're offering me a drive, I won't refuse." I winked at him while I slammed the door shut.  
Like I expected, it set him off and his soft look turned into one of indignation. He then sighed and went back on the road. "I guess you can never stop being an asshole."  
I would have literally killed him when he stood (well, sat...) if it wasn't for the light smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced briefly at me. I laughed out loud, I guess it was true, after all. I was sitting in his car knowing he was already late and making him even more late although I didn't need the drive.

He kept on driving, and curiously, the silence that had settled between us, apart the sound of the motor, wasn't uncomfortable. The question about the sudden attention was bugging me though, but it wouldn't have been subtle to ask about it directly. The fact he was driving faster and faster just comforted me in the idea that he had important things to do (or strict parents?) so I took that as a way to beat around the bush.

"You're gonna get us killed if you keep on driving like if you were in Gran Turismo."  
But unfortunately, my remark didn't bring the expected conversation, it took a totally different way.  
"You know that game?" he asked, looking at me.  
"Watch the road please, I don't plan to die now." I reminded him that he was actually supposed to look at where he was going, "Yeah, I know that game."  
"I'd never would have guessed you'd be the kind to play video games actually." Was that an insult? I probably looked a bit on the defensive side, "I mean, you look more like the sportive kind."  
"Are games and sports incompatible?" I wouldn't know, I only knew some games by name, I didn't like video games that much.  
"I guess so..." he shrugged, but the light in his eyes told me the subject was something he was keen on.  
"I don't really like games actually, but I suspect you do?"  
He turned to stare at me (fortunately we were stopping at a red light) and the light in his eyes turned to a bright glow. Hit.  
"Actually I only can play the games I can illegally download and play on my computer, but I really like it, I hope I can get a real console someday." Then he seemed to tick about what I said, "How do you suspect I do like games? It's not written all over my face, as far as I know." He was the one being defensive now.  
"Well, besides the fact you're quite lanky..." I began under his seething expression, and stopped, just so it would set him off a little more.  
After a few seconds I added: "Okaaaaay, it's just because you looked interested by the topic, don't take it so bad!" because as strange as it was, we were having the closest thing to a real conversation for once and I didn't want to ruin it. YES I liked it. Period.  
"I thought you were finding me sexy." he pouted, but quickly he couldn't hide his smile anymore and the fake pout turned to a sticking tongue. It was hard not to attack this tongue with my own.  
"I do." I replied, trying my best to look dead serious, and I squeezed his tigh. To my surprise, he slapped my hand with his palm, but more like a mother slaps her kid's hand when he touches something not allowed.

**Matt**  
His hand on my thigh. It just... I don't know, I just slapped it like I would have smashed a mosquito from my leg. I felt more like 'Warning, forbidden area' than being horrified or shocked. Somehow I almost expected he would do something like that, I had to admit I had brought this with what I said.

I knew he was crushing on me, it was as obvious as a nose in the middle of a face, and I wasn't probably helping him get over me (because he had to, he really had to, since it was hopeless) but fuck, it was his problem, and after all, it wasn't really different than Layla, it wasn't because they had a crush on me that I had to feel guilty.

"You're not running away this time, am I making progress?" he said with a mischievous smile, and this time I really felt like running away (or throw him out since we were in MY car). It was further than I could take the joke.  
"Take it easy... God you're so fucking stressed about that topic that it's not even funny, I'm joking, JOKING, okay?" he raised his hand in a helpless way, "If I had really done something to get my way with you, believe me, you'd have a sore ass by now already." He sighed and leant against the passenger's door, "and this last part wasn't a joke."

"Oh yeah? So what? You'd have raped me?" I almost strangled myself at his last statement. The idea of him taking... aaack... doing whatever gays do, to me, made me shudder.  
"I wouldn't need to." he said flatly.

My kind of relief for being able to hold a real conversation with him for once just got ruined, in these last few seconds. The tone was quickly growing into one of argument.

"I didn't know you had the superpower of turning hetero guys to gays." I replied as flatly as he did. But unfortunately, this brought to my mind an image that had me laughing out loud all of a sudden.  
"What?" he snapped, indignated.  
"I just imagined you wearing a Superman's costume with briefs above your pants and all." I choked out, still laughing.  
"See, I'm turning you on." he was refraining himself but I knew he wanted to laugh too.  
"You wish."  
"I will."  
"No way."  
He became dead serious in an instant.  
"I _will_." he whispered in a dangerous tone that sent shivers through my spine, and left my car as the light turned green again. I don't know, but I think I'm starting to dread our next encounter, and unfortunately, it's tomorrow... Damn fence.

The next day was pretty eventless, since I was specialising in technology and computing and Mihael had, for what I knew, chosen literature. It seemed we would only meet for our respective optional course, since mine was literature and his was computing. It was fine with me since I didn't really want to know how he would turn me on. I mean, try to... I was feeling nausea at this sole idea. That meant so much and so few at the same time. He would probably be all over me, tease me, make sexual jokes, I didn't know what to expect. Bleh.  
I realised all of a sudden, in the middle of programming, that I had no literature class today, and somehow I felt relieved.  
But I still had to meet him at the fence, since we weren't over cutting it. Shit.

He was already at work when I arrived breathless on the basket ball playground. I was late since we were supposed to be there around 5pm, but I had met Annie as I was exiting the toilets of the amphitheatre and she had felt a sudden urge to push me back in and lock us together in a booth. It was... hot. She sucked me off, swallowed it all, and kissed me. Then she just left with a wink. Damn, she really was a slut.  
And I don't know what went through my mind, but tasting myself on her lips brought the weirdest of thoughts to me: Wasn't it a bit gay to taste cum? Even if it was my own? Stupid thoughts. I shook them out of my head.

We barely greeted each other before I grabbed scissors and moved away, and resumed cutting the fence where I had stopped the previous day. I kept on glancing at him nervously in the distance, wondering if he had something planned for me, but he ignored me all along.  
Little by little, we came closer to each other as our work progressed, until we had almost finished doing the whole contour of the playground. It became impossible to cut side to side since we were too close so he threw the scissors he was holding on the floor, letting me finish the job, and opened his water bottle. He drank slowly, and this time he was looking at me. He knew I was thirsty, but he didn't offer any water to me.  
His look was indescribable. I was a bit scared, actually.

And I was right to be.  
I saw him let some water run along his chin on purpose, that he wiped away with the back of his hand, then he poured some water in the palm of his hand, and dampened his nape. Then he let his hand run from his nape to the front of his neck, and I could see drops run on his chest and disappear in his vest.  
I was hotter than the weather usually made me. I was uncomfortable, disturbed, annoyed, disgusted, scared... all mixed emotions telling me I didn't want to see him do this, but for some reason, I stared. Maybe when you're exposed to fire, you get insensitive to it after a while?

Then only he handed me his bottle, but I was unable to drink. I had a lump in my throat, and I didn't want to drink that water, it was just... aaack!  
So I stood there, bottle in hand, as he picked up his scissors again and finished cutting the fence.  
I don't know how long I stood there with the bottle, but at some point I may have looked utterly stupid because he smirked at me, and chuckled.

I was pretty sure it was only the beginning of what he had planned. It wouldn't work, but it was putting me in a pretty bad situation: I was the target of a psycho gay that, I was sure of that, would stop at nothing, even if he didn't have a chance with me. Which would make things last forever, and forever was long, very long...

I was stirred from my thoughts by a loud cry and the sound of metal hitting the ground. I turned around quickly, startled, to meet the sight of Mihael holding his right wrist with his left hand, blood flooding between his fingers in a manner that told me it was not just a little cut. I let the bottle fall to the ground and ran to him.  
I glanced at his wrist and decided to call the emergencies instead of dragging him to the sick bay of the university. It was serious, considering the blood that was pooling on the ground, pouring so quickly from the wound that I was beginning to feel sick.  
I dialed quickly and after a few seconds, I got the confirmation someone would come for us.

I tried to see how deep the cut was. It was horrible. I was not a sissy but he had slashed his wrist to the bone.  
"Hold on, the emergencies' gonna be there soon." I tried to talk to him as he began to leave the field.  
"I don't need an ambulance, it's just a cut damnit!" he replied, angry (why? I wouldn't know, I was only trying to help, and he didn't seem to realise how serious his wound was).  
"Wait! You're losing way too much blood!" I was alarmed. There was blood on the ground all along the way he was taking to reach the campus. I ran to catch up with him, and only had time to refrain his fall, grabbing him by his middle, as his legs gave up.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Note: _**_since I had promised an update in the middle of last week and was unable to keep my promise, I'm making up for it now!_ _Next chapter will come next weekend or sooner.  
This is the last chapter that focuses on setting the story in place, so the real thing begins in next chapter, be prepared!_**  


* * *

Mello**  
It hurt like a bitch. The fucking scissors slipped from my wet fingers, got tangled in a branch and like a backslap, it dug right into my wrist. So much for playing with water. Was it a divine punishment for teasing Mail?  
I let the tool fall on the floor, instinctively putting my non damaged hand on the wound to stop the blood but it seemed I had it bad: the red lines dripping from between my fingers and the sharp pain, along with the strange feeling of open flesh under my hand, didn't bode well.  
I guess I needed some band aid, but the stupid redhead called the emergencies. I didn't need an ambulance damnit!

I began to exit the field, I was planning to go back home and buy something to put on the cut in a pharmacy on my way, but I suddenly realised how much blood I was losing when my head started spinning and my legs buckled against my will. I felt arms grab my waist as I fell, and couldn't help but think it was such a pity he was holding me when I was unable to be fully aware of him touching me, since I was getting really dizzy. Well, he wouldn't be holding me if I wasn't in that state, but that was beyond my reasoning at that moment.

He helped me sit on the floor very carefully, and a few strands of his hair tickled my shoulder as he bent to support my weight. I looked at him, gasping at the slight contact, I was _really_ losing control of myself with the blood loss, and he stared back, surprised by my reaction.  
"Are you... ok?" he asked, but I didn't reply, I lost consciousness. I barely felt a slap on my face (that he would have to pay dearly for) and heard him shout at me, then nothing anymore.

I woke up, and gathered my thought together quickly as I saw a nurse all dressed in white, and the equally white walls around me. I blinked to adjust my sight to the sudden light flood. The nurse, a tall and fat black woman with a very mothering aura, came closer and smiled to me, although I was probably looking as grumpy as I felt, remembering the latest events.  
"Back from dreamland, young man?" she giggled, taking my pulse and checking my tension, before turning around and yelling in direction of the door: "Your friend has awoken!"  
I looked in the same direction as she had turned to and spotted a tuft of red hair and a hand holding a phone to an ear in the open door, engaged in an apparently animated conversation. The hand closed the device after a few seconds and some more animated words, and the redhead entered the room, obviously uneasy and worried.

Not because of me though, it seemed.  
"Oh good, you woke up. I have to go now, I'm very late... Are you gonna be ok?" he said, shifting from a foot to another. I could tell he was in a hurry to leave.  
But the nurse wasn't agreeing at all and let us know straight away.  
"Hey young man!" she addressed Mail, "your friend can go back home but we can't let him leave alone, and the doctor strongly recommended not to leave him alone until tomorrow. He lost too much blood and although it's useless to keep him here, first he will need help at least in the beginning since he can't use his right hand, and second, he needs surveillance just in case."  
I started to protest about the 'he will need help' part but she cut it off.  
"Listen", she looked at me, "You're not going anywhere alone, shall I bind you to the bedpost", then she looked at Mail, "And you..."

But Mail unexpectedly shut her up.  
"You listen, I'm already late and my family's on my back, I've stayed long enough to make sure he would be ok and I'm pretty sure he doesn't want any help from me since we're _not_ friends. I've been in too much trouble because of him already so I'm off."  
And he began to leave, crossing the room. Wow. Fuck. Wait. I didn't want to have to stay here, especially with that matron nursing me!  
But I wouldn't plead him. No way. So I screamed at him instead.  
"_You_ have been in too much trouble because of me? Fucker, it's your damn fault if I'm stuck here! I wouldn't have had to use those damn scissors if you hadn't brought up that punishment on us!" I was feeling anger boil in me. The bastard was rejecting the fault on me!  
He was about to cross the doorframe when he turned around and glared at me.  
"Poor baby can't even use a simple tool! Are you gonna cry and call your mother now? You'd better call your parents, because otherwise you're stuck here! I'm not taking responsibility for anything, let alone mother you until you're better!" he spat at me.  
"He's right", the nurse said in the middle of our fight, "Why don't you call your parents? Give me the number, I can do it for you if you want..." she offered, trying to calm us down, but Mail rolled his eyes and exited the room.  
"I don't have family here, they're all in Germany." I said, wanting the nurse to get rid of the idea of calling my parents. I didn't want to have to explain this to my parents, I was perfectly fine without them, and the weekly short call they gave me just to check if I was ok was enough for me.

My head started spinning from the sudden fit of anger and I sighed in despair, letting myself fall back on the pillow. How was I gonna get out of here? There was no way I'd spend the night here, I had already stayed too long for my likings since the clock I could spot on the corridor's wall was close to reaching 8pm.

I didn't have time to linger on a possible way to leave the hospital since Mail stormed in the room again, angrily grabbed my left arm, pulling me out of the bed, and headed toward the exit again. I grabbed my messenger bag from a chair on the way and followed, half wondering what that return was for, half getting dizzy again.  
We reached the admissions' counter in a few steps and he stopped there.  
"Mihael Keehl. I'm taking him in charge." he told the secretary, pointing at me with his chin as he said my name.  
She handed us some papers to sign, and we were out.

He let my arm go once we were in the parking lot, and it was lucky I wasn't in a good shape because I wouldn't have allowed such a harsh treatment otherwise.  
I followed him to his car, slightly curious about Mail's sudden change of mind. I plopped on the passenger's seat once he had opened the door from the inside, exhausted, and stayed silent.  
Not for long though. I couldn't help the remark that passed my lips.

**Matt**  
"I admit I like it rough, but what was that for?" he suddenly said after a few seconds of silence.  
"You can never quit it, can't you?" I rubbed my face in annoyance. Fuck, he never left the sexual jokes aside, even in such a situation. He was lucky I had heard what he said about him being alone here, and even more lucky that I had some sense of responsibility in me (thanks, mum...), and still he was teasing me.  
"Why did you come back if you hate it that much?" he asked me, serious this time.  
"Because I fell madly in love with you and couldn't stand the thought of leaving you alone in that unfriendly world."  
He looked at me, his eyes half lidded, and I realised he was still under the painkillers the nurse had given him. I guess it was better to have him here with me than leave him in that bedroom, because I was pretty sure he would have sneaked out with or without the nurse's consent. Damn him for making me feel guilty for leaving!

"I knew you would fall for my sexy ass." he replied, chuckling, and leant against the seat in a tired manner.  
"I guess that's the good side of being gay, you don't have to convince your... partner to take it up the ass when it comes to sex, with girls it's mostly always a big no no..." I don't know why I said that, even if it was true. I had wanted to try sodomy with some girls I fucked but they never agreed, and I was really curious about trying it someday, hoping I'd find a chick that would accept. But I regretted saying that instantly as it gave me nausea, an image of guy on guy coming to my mind. Why did I have to think about that?  
"You wouldn't top me anyway so stop dreaming." he winked at me and chuckled again.  
"If I was gay, you wouldn't even do that for me?" I was entertaining a conversation I didn't even want to have but teasing for teasing...

He stared at me, gauging the seriousness of my question.  
"No way..." he muttered, "And if you spent five minutes naked in my hands, you'd beg me to fuck you anyway, not the other way around."  
He was totally serious, and I didn't even doubt the fact he was probably a real turn on with other gay guys. I had to admit he was really a good looking guy, even more than that, and probably could get anyone he wanted. Except me, of course, and I was feeling the urge to change the subject because it was more information than I could take at once about homosexuality.

I shook my head and focused on the road, suddenly realising I was heading home although I had a passenger.  
"I'm supposed not to leave you alone, so what do we do?" I asked him. I was late, my father had called when I was waiting at the hospital to scold me since I was supposed to help him at the garage, I also had to call the owner of the leather shop to explain why I couldn't be there tonight (she had been understanding fortunately), and I was clearly in trouble since I'd have to explain why I had stayed with Mihael, and one thing leading to another, my parents would probably end up knowing the whole story starting from the fight that led Mihael to use scissors and cut his wrist so badly.  
"Leave me here if you want, I'll walk home, I'm not that far." he told me, but that was not an option.

"No, I meant, do I drive you home so you can pick a few things before we go to my house, or do we drive there immediately?" I didn't really have a choice, I could see he wasn't well, and he would have difficulties doing things with only one hand, and when I would have explained why I was late to my mother, she would scold me and urge me to go back to my car and pick him up not to leave him alone, so I'd better bring him home in the first place.  
"I'm not going to your house, leave me here."  
"Mihael, can you stop being stubborn? My mum's gonna kill me if she learns I left you on your own, so do that for me, ok?"  
Maybe if I presented things that way, he'd give in?  
"Oh, so who's the baby now?" he mocked me.

"Why am I offering to help, I wonder." I mumbled. What a fucking asshole!  
"Because you love me hun."  
He squeezed my leg just like he did the day before.  
So I slapped it just like I did the day before. But I couldn't refrain the chuckle that escaped me. Strangely, I was getting used to the teasing, although the sexual hints kept on making me slightly sick feeling.

"I hope you have a non striped shirt I can borrow." Mihael smirked at me. He probably would never accept things directly, but he was obviously trying to tell me I could drive home directly without scratching his pride. I guess that was part of him...


	12. Chapter 12

_**Note: **Sooo what's gonna happen at Matt's home? How will his parents react to Mello? Let's find out! Oh, and you probably don't care, but I have to say it: my boss is a lunatic bitch and she's driving me crazy._**  


* * *

Mello**  
I would never have admitted it but I knew I didn't have any other choice than to accept Mail's invitation. At the moment I told him I'd be walking home, the sole move of straightening in the car seat made my head spin to the point I thought I would throw up. Morphine. I could recognise the effects since during my many years of sambo training I got my fair share of broken bones. It would usually appease the pain, but the side effects were hard to cope with, even for me.  
I was lucky they had let me out after a small surgery, the damage wasn't as bad as it looked like since no nerve had been touched, only the side of my wrist was cut to the bone, and I would be fine without reeducation in two months.  
I could still control my mind or speech, but, even if he couldn't see it now, I felt limp and unable to stand.  
Which proved to be true once Mail parked and I tried to exit the car. My legs were shaky, and I just had time to catch the open door to support myself with my valid hand before I fell. Shit. Of all people, he was the last one I wanted to see me in that state.

He didn't comment, he just turned around the car and slid his arm under my armpits and not matter how much I tried, I was unable to refrain myself from leaning on him. Each time I tried to fight my weakness, I wanted to vomit, so I just let go and let him almost carry me inside of the apartment complex. I was even smiling inwardly at the idea that he wasn't even hesitating anymore to make physical contact with me.

As soon as we reached the front door of the apartment where Mail's family lived, he rang the bell, not letting me go. The door opened and a red haired woman open.  
"Mail? Did you lose your keys again? I told you many times... Oh! You brought your friend! Come in! Hey, is he ok?"  
Her eyes questioned him before going back to me: "Oh my, you don't look well, poor boy..."  
She helped me with Mail to the couch, and I couldn't help but notice all the traits Mail had inherited from his mother as I sat heavily: the deep blue eyes, the frail frame, the red hair and freckles, but what shocked me was the sweetness in the voice. Now I finally managed to put my finger on what made him so special. It was more obvious with her as a woman and mother, but there was no denying it, Mail had that comforting tone in his voice, the thing that envelops you like a warm blanket, something soothing, calm and collected. Something deep that makes you feel like you can just melt into it and be protected from the whole world.  
Of course, his mother was taking that to a whole different level as a motherly figure, but it was there in him.

Once sat on the couch, I felt better. As long as I wasn't moving, I didn't feel like throwing up. I looked up and there she was, smiling at me, bringing a hand to my forehead. This bright smile, God... I imagined Mail's father unable to resist that, and I instantly smiled back. Yeah, she could do that to me, but for some reason (probably morphine), I didn't really mind. And I couldn't scowl at the woman that was welcoming me in her house, after all.  
"You don't have a fever. I'll bring you some water... Mail! Don't stay in my way like a stone, go check the pie in the oven and bring the plates on the table, honey, your father will be here soon and your friend obviously needs to rest so we won't have diner too late tonight. Hurry up sweetheart, hurry up!" she said, pushing him playfully while tickling him on her way to the kitchen.  
"Mum!" he protested, and glanced at me. I smirked, and he sighed, probably knowing what I was thinking. Honey, sweetheart... that wouldn't be left forgotten.

I sipped my glass of water slowly, Mail and his mother busy in the kitchen where delicious smells came from. I just thought at that instant that it's been a long time since I had a real meal, something obviously cooked with love.  
The effects of the painkiller were lessening and I was feeling myself again. That's when Mail's father arrived, and it made me slightly uncomfortable. Even more when he spotted me, a long haired guy dressed in leather, on his couch.  
But he didn't show any sign of disdain or whatever, just a little surprise, and came to me, holding out his hand.  
I shook it, introducing myself, he did the same, smiling to me, and that was it.

Mail came out of the kitchen with a huge meat pie, while his mother followed with a large bowl of salad. Once he had deposited the dish on the table, Mail came to me as I stood, but I could make it on my own this time, feeling a lot better (well, the throbbing in my wrist was now full force since the morphine had obviously left my system, but it was still bearable, and I had other painkillers to swallow that the hospital had given me anyway, if it got worse).

We sat around the table, Mrs Jeevas chatting with me joyfully, asking about my specialisation at the university, my hobbies, my mother land and so on, and it was surprisingly easy to talk to her, although I was usually quite the untalkative kind.  
I politely complimented her pie, which was delicious, and as she talked about it being a family recipe, I learnt that they were from an old irish line. Thus the red hair. Not that I liked stereotypes, but there it was.

But soon the futile chatting became a little bit more serious when Mail's father began to talk to his son.  
"Mail, I know you have an excuse for tonight, but that doesn't make up for yesterday. You know I count on you at the garage, and your absence has made me late on Brownhill's car. I still have to change the motor and I need your help for that, you know it. If Brownhill doesn't have his car at the end of the week he won't pay, and we can't afford that, so I expect you at 6 at the garage tomorrow afternoon, and no excuse, ok?"  
I looked at Mail who was nodding to his father, but I could tell he was struggling inside. We still had countless of hours to do for the community work, and it only left him less than one hour to do it everyday if he had to be with his father at 6pm. And we were supposed to stay until 7pm, whatever the work was.

"That was my fault, Mr Jeevas." I was a bastard, but not to the extent of leaving him alone in this, especially not when he was accommodating me, "He was helping me, that's why he was late."  
Mail looked at me with eyes as wide as plates. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, making me thing of a goldfish.  
"Well, I guess we can't be mad at him if he was helping a friend, but Mail, you have to understand that your family obligations have to be fulfilled, your father is working hard and you can't just abandon him like this without warning."  
Mrs Jeevas scolded him lightly, but Mail was still silently looking at me, surprised.  
"I'm sorry Mrs Jeevas, I didn't mean to distract him from his family obligations, and I'll amend by helping him or his father anytime, well, I mean, as soon as I can." I stated, raising my wrist.

I was slowly understanding why all this struggle in Mail's eyes. The apartment was clean but it wasn't hard to see it was small and old, and the poor neighbourhood itself said a lot about the Jeevas family's income. So it wasn't difficult to imagine how needed his work with his father was. I briefly worried about the community work making them lose a lot, but after all, it was easy not to let that happen.  
And his parents obviously loved him a lot, they were a very touchy and cuddling family and he didn't want to disappoint them. It clashed with the other side of him though, the one that fucked girls on the backseat of his car and didn't care about their feelings.

Just thinking about that side of him brought back the will to tease him. I couldn't help it, it was stronger than me...  
And Mrs Jeevas just served the right moment on a silver plate.  
"Mihael, you do look like an angel, but now I see you really are one! That's so kind of you to offer your help!"  
Mail almost choked on his water.  
"Mum!" he protested again.  
"Oh Mail, I can say that your friend is cute, it's not a crime, is it? And it's true after all!" she giggled, ruffling her son's hair, "But you're cute too honey! Don't be jealous, you'll always be my little fox."  
She stood, bringing back the pie to the kitchen, laughing at Mail's crestfallen expression.  
"That's what I keep on telling him." I stated, winking at him.  
Silence. I win.

Mr Jeevas' eyes went from me to Mail and back. I was smiling innocently while Mail was reddening, standing brutally to gather the empty plates and bring them to the kitchen, and his mother stared at us, probably trying to guess if she heard right. Crossing his mother's look, he shrugged and suddenly exclaimed: "I'm not gay! He's always teasing me, don't look at me like this!"  
Mrs Jeevas then said something I wouldn't have expected, not from a homophobe's mother's mouth:  
"And so what if you were? Mail darling, be careful of what you say, your friend could be offended because even if I know you didn't mean it that way, it sounded slightly homophobic."  
"Your mother is right Mail, even if Mihael is your friend and probably knows you have nothing against him, other people could take your words the wrong way." his father added, and this time I was the one to be silenced.  
How on earth could these two lovely parents have given birth to someone as homophobic as Mail?

Mail looked at me, mumbling a 'sorry' then heading for the kitchen with his mother, who kept on bugging him:  
"Mail, you can tell me if he's your boyfriend, I won't mind you know, neither will your father actually. Mihael is so cute!"  
I didn't see Mail's face but it was more than certainly priceless and I couldn't help but laugh when he came back with a big bowl full of cherries, scowling at me.  
"I would be less worried about you bringing home a pregnant girlfriend if he was your boyfriend, actually." Mr Jeevas teased him, pushing Mail's shoulder manly and chuckling.  
Mail rolled his eyes in a 'they're all against me' manner, and I decided that I loved his parents. They kicked ass.  
But I knew, with that remark, that Mail's father was more than aware of his son's many girlfriends.

We spent the next hour eating cherries and doing a cherry knot tying contest.  
It was very pleasant, I was not used to such a family atmosphere at all. My parents and me were happy together too, but our diners were usually more formal, for the rare times we ate together since they were almost always invited at a congress or by very important relationships, or just ate in restaurants the rest of the time. It was more and more a mystery to me that Mail was so narrow minded, surrounded by so much love and understanding.

I tried not to show it, but looking at Mail's mouth while he was giving a try at tying the knot of the cherry he had just taken began to arouse me, and I was thankful when his mother decided it was time for us to go to bed, before it became too obvious in my pants.

"I'll sleep on the couch." Mail suddenly stated, "I'll just help you change the sheets of my bed but we're not sleeping in the same room."  
Shit.  
"Mail honey, I'd rather like you to stay with Mihael, he was not well at all a little earlier and I want you to stay with him just in case because I'll be worried otherwise." She turned to me: "Mihael, I expect you to behave, don't take that as an invitation to... tease Mail, is that clear?"  
Wow. She could be scary.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Note: **Sorry for the lack of update last week end, but I was unfortunately way too busy to write. Not that I like it, it's killing me. But maybe I can come up with chapter 14 today or in the next two days to make up for it._**  
**_I dedicate this chapter to Dlvvanzor because she and I chatted on MSN a few minutes ago and since we came up with something to stir our joint fic Psyche out of its torpor, it helped to kickstart my brain for TSFMS too. Thank you sis!_**  
**_There's a lot of POV change at the end of this chapter, but it was necessary._**  


* * *

Matt**  
The diner, surprisingly, was sometimes on the verge of putting me to shame, but pleasant. I discovered a side of Mihael I wouldn't have expected: he was polite and friendly with my parents, and acted totally normally. His stupid hitting on me jokes aside. But I realised that I was even getting used to that.  
Part of me was still horrified by the gayness he was wrapping all around me because first it made me feel like his prey (the look he had sometimes... he made me think of a feline that wasn't even hungry but would eat me anyway, by pure sadism) and second, I still didn't want to be assimilated to that sexual orientation, but another part of me was relieved. I was more relaxed in his presence, and I could appreciate the person he was more and more. I don't even know why I wanted to know him more, but oh well, I don't have to analyse myself all the time, my mother does that very well for me. And she's always right. Parents are that annoying, always hitting straight home when they scrutinize your soul and mind... or maybe I'm not very complicated.

But as soon as my mother warned him, just before we went to sleep, the glimmer in his eyes told me I wouldn't like what was next. I could see by the light twist of Mihael's lips that my mother's warning felt threatening to him (she had made a cop shake in his shoes once, when she had been arrested along the pavement long ago, because she hadn't stopped to a red light out of worry as she was driving like crazy to pick me up to school when I was a kid and had fallen from a tree in the schoolyard), but also fueled something in him, something I had learnt to recognise since I met him for the first time.  
Don't threaten him, don't provoke him, and don't challenge him, it'll only result in a back fire.  
Unfortunately, the fire wouldn't be directed toward my mother but me. Fucking fuck.

I closed the door of my bedroom and gulped. No, there was no reason to be afraid, he wouldn't be stupid enough to do anything of _that_ nature while I was asleep, would he? I mean, he was more than certainly aware that I wasn't even close to respond to his behaviour, and that it was useless. And what if he didn't care? I was sure he didn't care... I was only fooling myself, you could not apply a rational way of thinking to Mihael.  
When he looked at me though, I felt stupid, since I had been staring at him all along my reasoning process. In any other circumstances, he could have thought I was waiting for him to do something. Damn, I should control myself.

He simply sat on my bed, looking really tired, so I picked up a long sleeved tee shirt in one of my drawers and handed it to him.  
"No stripes." I smiled to him, and he laughed back softly. I was once again surprised at how manly his laughter sounded. I don't exactly know why I always expected him to act girly, probably because of some misconception of my mind concerning gays.  
I usually slept in boxers and nothing else, but it was time for an exception, so I picked my own night shirt in the same drawer and headed to the bathroom. I thought about adding sweat pants but it was way too hot in California and I didn't even have one. Before I reached the door, I turned around and asked him:  
"Do you want to use the bathroom first?"  
After all, he was my guest, I should at least be polite in return.  
"I'll go after you, nevermind." he replied, so I isolated myself, changed myself, brushed my teeth and came back in the bedroom. I almost squeaked at the sight my eyes met.

He was standing half naked, his leather pooled on the floor, trying to put his injured arm inside of the sleeve without hurting himself too much. Shit. I should have given him a longer shirt, I totally forgot he was going commando.  
He turned to me when he heard the bathroom door, and scowled at me.  
I wasn't responsible of his injury, nor was I for the fact he was entangled in the sleeve, so why was his look so dark?

"Something's wrong?" I asked, a little taken aback by his expression and trying not to look _there _(it's weird that even if you don't want it, your eyes are always drawn to such things against your will...).  
I didn't catch what he said, because he mumbled in the opposite direction, and then suddenly the shirt was over his head and hung to his wrist by the sleeve. From where I was standing, I couldn't see what the problem was, but I could sense he needed help (and I mean, help like getting something to cover himself before my eyes burnt).

I walked to him, and the mumbling became clearer. Well, clearer in the way I could hear it was german, and to the tone he was using, he was more than likely cursing, although since I didn't speak a word of german, I wouldn't really know. And then I saw that a string of the fabric had entangled in the bandage around his wrist and that he couldn't detangle it with one hand.  
To my utter horror, I found myself closer than I wanted to cut the string and free his damaged wrist. I couldn't help the view on his crotch in the corner of my eye while I tried to stay focused on the string. I stupidly wondered if he shaved himself there since he was almost hairless in that area. Scratch that, I never thought about that. Never.

But he tried to get away from me brutally as I was trying to help. It resulted in the string breaking and freeing his wrist, but he was still scowling at me.  
"I don't need help." he growled.  
I was surprised at the change. A few minutes ago, he was in a teasing mood and now he seemed angry.  
I didn't even know what to reply, I was just standing there, not understanding his attitude, staring at his face.  
He didn't even get the shirt back, he just looked away, standing where he was as well. Awkward. I wish he had hurt his dick instead of his wrist, so at least he would wear the bandage _there_, because it was the only garment on him right now.

I quickly changed the sheets, the silence growing unbearable. Fuck, this guy was bipolar.  
I finally addressed to him, wanting to go to sleep as fast as possible so I wouldn't have to deal with his naked self anymore: "Take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor."  
I grabbed a pillow from the bed and a comforter in a cupboard, and I unsuccessfully tried to make myself comfortable on the carpet. The night would be long...  
He didn't say a word and slid under the sheets naked. I would have to burn them tomorrow...

I tossed and turned a lot, the floor breaking my back and making it impossible for me to sleep. Not long after the lights went off, I heard his even breathing, he had fallen asleep. Probably the painkillers.

Staring at the ceiling in the dark, still wide awake, I started when I heard his voice.  
"Not sleeping?" he asked.  
"No." I simply replied. I watched at the digital clock on my bed table, it was almost 3am. I hadn't noticed so many hours had passed. I'd be tired the next day...  
"Why don't you get in the bed, you'd be more comfortable." His voice wasn't flirty or whatever, it seemed genuine, but I didn't want to take the risk of sleeping next to him anyway.  
"No."  
"That wasn't an invitation for kinky stuff, jerk." he spat.  
"I won't take the chance." I yawned, turning my back to him, but damn, the floor dug in my shoulder and hip painfully.

Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me and felt an arm slide around my waist, and... ACK! Mihael was moulding himself against me, from behind, and since he was naked, my brain sizzled. NO! He couldn't do that!  
My body jerked away from him and I heard him chuckle.  
"See? If I had wanted anything like this, I wouldn't have waited for you to climb in bed."  
"Did you need to do that to prove your point?" I fulminated, glaring at his form in the dark although he couldn't see my expression.  
"Did you have male friends when you were younger?" he asked all of a sudden, and from the shuffling sound of sheets, I knew he was back in the bed.  
"Huh... I had one, but I don't see what it has to do with you groping me?" I wondered where he was going with such a question, he could be so desultory that it destabilised me.

I am someone very rational, always going through long thinking processes until I understand something, and Mihael had this ability to cut into this and mess my mind up. Thus I had to be careful because in those cases, I could say things I didn't want to, and I was pretty sure that it was what he was trying to make me do.  
I wouldn't call that being manipulative though. It didn't fit him. I felt it more like he was really trying to understand my reticence, to find reasons not to hate me for being a homophobe. Not that he would admit it, like usual.  
_Like usual_. I was talking like if we had settled a routine, but we weren't even friends. I should stop thinking sometimes. But you can't expect me, with the mother I have, not to have inherited of some of her traits, and I was myself pretty good at analysing people.

"Were you uncomfortable in their presence? Have you never slept in the same room or even shared a tent or something?" he went on.  
So that's where he was going.  
"No, I did, and I did too." I replied methodically, pulling myself in a sat position, since I sensed that the conversation wouldn't stop here.  
He was silent for a few seconds then headed to where I was waiting for him.  
"So what's the difference now? And no, me being gay isn't a difference." he began.  
"I... it is! You..." I stuttered, of course it made a difference!  
"No, it isn't." he cut me, "If you hadn't known, you wouldn't act so retarded and..."  
I was the one to cut him this time: "If I hadn't known? Come on! It's written all other you that you're gay! No one can miss that, and moreover, it makes a difference not because you're gay, but because you blatantly stated that you would get me. THAT makes a difference, because I don't know what to expect!"  
"You're saying it like if I made myself look gay on purpose."  
"Don't you?" I was slightly surprised by the sudden softening of his voice, which told me I had hit a sensitive string.  
He stayed silent this time.  
"I'm sorry..." I said after a while. For once, I wished I could see him because then I would probably understand what was the matter by the expression on his face...  
"What are you sorry for?" he asked. It was genuine, soft, almost uttered in a breath. Had I hurt him that much?

**Mello**  
I was falling asleep, the conversation annoying the hell out of me. There was nothing that could be done about this guy, he was a jerk and would always be. End of the story.  
"I'm sorry..." he said after a few seconds, stirring me out of my sleepy state.  
"What are you sorry for?" I yawned, my voice barely coming out.  
"I probably hurt you with what I said, so I'm sorry." he stated.  
"You didn't hurt me, I'm just falling asleep. But go on, since you think you could have hurt me, what in what you said could possibly hurt me? I'm curious now." I wasn't as sleepy now, smirking in the dark. It was getting amusing.

**Matt**  
The bastard! He was only sleeping! So much for worrying for him!  
"Forget it." I pouted, unnerved by the fact I had misunderstood his silence.  
"Come ooooon Mail, tell me!" he poked me in the shoulder, which told me he was leaning over the border of the bed.  
"People at uni usually call me Matt." I corrected him, realising he had always called me Mail since he had known my name in the security chief's office.  
"Why Matt?"  
"It's just a nickname because people used to make fun of Mail when I was younger."  
"I didn't make fun of your real name." he said flatly.  
"You made fun of all the rest though..."

**Mello**  
He had the point. I was expecting him to accept me as I was, and had clearly made fun of his rabbit attitude with girls, and probably of all the rest too.  
"Ok, you win, I'm the bad guy." I sighed heavily.  
"It's not a question of being bad or good... I guess."  
A car went down the street, front lights briefly illuminating the room. Long enough for me to see his apologetic look.  
It held a lot. It held the fact that his last statement was directed more at himself than at me, it held the will to understand me, the effort of leaving his beliefs behind, the strange interest he had for me that echoed with the one I felt for his personality. It held the step we made forward, and for some reason, I knew he would never be Matt for me. Just like I didn't want to be Mello for him, but Mihael. He didn't know I had that nickname, but he had seen Mello until now nonetheless.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Note: **As promised, an update in the two days after week end!_**  


* * *

Mello**  
I didn't try anything during the rest of the night, letting Mail sleep soundly once he finally managed to. I could even have behaved with him beside me in the bed, but he refused categorically to be that close to me. Even when I suggested I would put some clothes on. I guess that Mail sleeping soundly in the same room as me was the closest we could come to acceptance on his side, for now.  
I didn't hate him, although I was trying really hard. I didn't like looking weak in front of him, I didn't like the way he reacted toward the fact I was gay (even if we were making progress), I even disliked how he seemed to be influenced by me (he had worried about hurting me a little earlier, when I was only falling asleep), letting me know he actually cared. But all of this made it impossible for me to hate him, because no matter what he felt or how uncomfortable he was in my presence, he was trying to like me as much as I was trying to hate him.

But you can't expect too much sentiment on my side, and my actual behaviour didn't mean I would stick to it forever. In the silent room, only punctuated by a car passing in the street from time to time, my mind was working. I still had a bet to win...

The alarm rang at 7am, and I laughed out loud when Mail stirred and tried to reach for the button to stop it, knocking his hand hard on the wood of the bedside.  
"OW!" he complained, realising he was on the floor and not in his bed. He looked up at me and stood up, smashing the buzzing machine to make it stop.  
Nonchalantly, I slid out of the sheets, chuckling when his eyes went wide. I was still naked.  
"My stuff isn't really different from yours, no need to blush." I mocked him.  
"How would you know?" he replied, probably understanding it the wrong way. No, I wasn't talking about size, dumbass, just the fact that you've got the same package so you shouldn't be so ashamed of the sight of someone else's dick. Even if that dick is gay.  
But the occasion was too good to pass. I reach for his boxers with my hand and squeezed.  
"No, no difference." I stated flatly as he made a screeching sound and pushed me away hard.  
"Mihael!" he yelled, "Don't fucking touch me!"  
He was reddening but I could tell this time it was out of rage.  
"Mail. Joke. Ok?" I calmed him down, "No need for such a drama, take it easy." Suddenly, the thought of his mother coming to check why all this screaming made me shudder. She would probably castrate me for that if she knew.  
He breathed deeply, rubbing his temples then his eyes.  
"Easy?" he said in a low tone, "Easy?" I could feel the boiling under the apparent calm of his voice. It was sexy as hell, and my hand was still tingling from the contact with his crotch. As if it wasn't enough, I felt my morning wood wake up. "What's gonna be easy will be my hand on your throat suffocating you to death if you ever do that again."  
He was serious, dead serious. I had gone too far. For him, not according to my own standards, but when his look lowered slightly, once he was done threatening me and probably wanted to put some distance between us, he didn't miss my proud erection, which I wasn't ashamed of at all. God, we were both guys, and I never had a problem with my body, not even now that my dick was defying gravity, not even after he had just threatened me.  
"It's time to get ready. And don't you dare masturbating in my shower." he warned me, showing me the direction of the bathroom with a movement of his chin before turning around to gather the pillow and comforter lying on the floor.  
A few minutes later, I rinsed the semen splattered on the shower tiles, chuckling at the thought of Mail's horrified face if he knew.

I waited in the bedroom while Mail took his shower after me, rummaging through his drawers and other furnitures. What, I'm not supposed to do that?  
He had a lot of striped shirts, jeans, black boxers and socks, but what shocked me was the lack of personal belongings except those clothes. It just comforted me in the idea that his family wasn't in the need, but was quite poor anyway, and probably counted every cent.  
When he finally exited the bathroom, hair wet (and giving him such a sexy look that I wanted to let my hand roam in those copper strands), I had made my decision.  
"Mail..." I caught his attention as he put his shoes on, sat on the bed, "It's ok for the leather pants." He looked at me questioningly, "I mean, you don't have to replace them."  
"They got damaged because of me, I'll replace them." he seemed in a bad mood, probably because of me (what, certainly?)  
"No, you won't. You've helped me enough since that," I raised my wrist, "We're even."  
"As you want." he finished lacing his shoes, "I guess it's always as you want." he mumbled.

We left the bedroom. The apartment was silent, both Mail's parents were gone. I checked the clock in the living room.  
"We're late." Mail said, seeing me do so. He grabbed his car keys and we left.

The camaro parked at uni only two minutes before the beginning of the first class. I crossed the parking and headed for the amphitheatre. I was a bit surprised when he headed another way and disappeared.  
I entered the room and sat, pulling my notebook and pen from my bag.  
The lesson had begun for five minutes when Mail joined me on the seat next to mine, and threw two chocolate bars on my knees. I looked at him, wondering why the sudden attention, until it hit me that it wasn't sudden at all. It wasn't even the first time he took care of me, just like when he had come back on his tracks to pick me up even though he was late, a few days ago.  
"You need to eat otherwise the painkillers are gonna get you sick." he didn't even look at me while saying it.  
"Thank you." I unwrapped one of the bars and discovered while eating that I was quite hungry, since we didn't have breakfast. I grabbed the second one and deposited it in his lap.  
"You need to eat otherwise my stupid jokes are gonna get you sick." I smirked as he looked at the bar then me.  
He sighed, but smiled back, stretched his legs in front of him and took his usual position in the amphitheatre before beginning to eat the chocolate bar.

At 11am, we went separate ways since he had a class that I didn't have and vice versa.  
I didn't see him at lunch time or in the afternoon, but we met again in the security chief's office at 5pm since we had finished cutting the fence and had to be assigned to a new task.  
Ten minutes later, we were leaving the office. Due to my injury, and the fact that the old man had seen us arrive together in the morning, he had dismissed us, declaring it was ok for this time, but that if anything similar happened again, he wouldn't hesitate to throw us out of uni. Ten minutes of heavy paternalism. Boring.

**Matt**  
Good. I didn't have to work for Mihael's pants nor was I forced to community work anymore. That solved the problem concerning my presence at my father's garage.

As we strode along the corridor, my cell phone rang (I hated that old shit, since it was so old I couldn't even change the ugly melody, but I was lucky to have one since my parents couldn't really afford it, and neither could I. I rarely called, it was more to be reachable by my parents than anything and I had it only because one of my father's customers had given it to him for free, and I had spared enough money to buy a prepaid chip.)  
My father had an emergency repair to do and needed me. Some old and rich woman's car had had the good idea to die on her in the middle of our street and she was willing to pay a fair amount of money if she could leave with a repaired car in less than one hour, because she had an appointment to her manicure. Bwah.

"I have to go home." I said flatly. Would he want to come with me?  
Stop it. I'm not really hoping he's gonna come with me again, am I? What's wrong with me?

And then I freaked out and left him there, walking away so fast I didn't even say goodbye.  
Purely, completely freaked out. I just had forced myself to admit that although he was a total dickhead and did stuff to me that I could never ever being to accept, like groping me, I liked his company.  
But that wasn't the reason why I freaked out. The thought hit me that maybe he had done something to me, I mean, his gayness may have contaminated me, and that was the reason why I was beginning to appreciate his presence. Why would I otherwise?  
He was always teasing me, annoying the hell out of me with his stupid jokes and ideas, he was a real pain in the ass...  
Arg! Scratch that, that last part was giving me a mental image I didn't want to imagine.

Sat on the driver's seat, in the parking lot, I tried to reason myself. I was being stupid. I knew it, I had read it on the internet. Not that I was stupid (hell, if there was a website stating Mail Jeevas was stupid, that would be crazy...). But the fact homosexuality wasn't contagious of course.  
But could those medical studies be trusted? I guess they could be...  
But then why did I want to befriend that bipolar trouble maker? Hello, analysing mind... here we go again...

**Mello**  
What the fuck was wrong with him? Oh well... whatever.  
I exited the building and sat on a bench after fetching a chocolate bar from the nearest vending machine, devouring my prize.  
What I didn't expect was Layla to sit beside me.

She sighed heavily, obviously trying to catch my attention. Can't she just spit out what she has to say, since she was far from being subtile with her loud exhaling sounds.  
"What?" I snapped, bothered by the brunette's attitude.  
"Matt's a jerk." she sighed again.  
"And?" Why did she think I could care for her state of mind toward Mail?  
"I know you hate him too, he almost knocked you down a few days ago, I saw how you glare at him all the time..." she continued.  
"Aaaand?" Say it bitch, stop beating around the bush!  
"I... I had an idea and I thought that maybe you'd want to help me to take revenge, you know, he cheated on me with that whore I thought was my best friend!" So that was it.  
I didn't reply immediately. Mail deserved it, Layla may have been quite an easy girl herself, what he did was a great lack of respect toward her. To my opinion, they weren't exactly dating, but they weren't exactly _not_ dating either, and going from a girl to her best friend like he did was far from being a gentleman. But what did I have to do with that?

"What do you expect from me?" I finally asked her.  
"I heard Annie say she was going to ask Matt to go to a party organised in town tomorrow evening, you know, that new cafe is opening and they're celebrating it, they're kind of a normal cafe but with a dancefloor and old pinballs and games, I'm sure you've heard of it!"  
Well... no.  
"All I need is for you to come too, like, with me... I can't go alone, it would be weird!"  
Huh? Me going there with a girl. THAT would be weird.  
"And once there, what are you planning to do?" I was ready to refuse but it wouldn't hurt to know what she had planned.  
"Annie said she wanted to try their toilets booths with Matt, you see what she means... she's such a bitch!" she winked at me in a connivance we didn't even have, "and so I plan on following them discreetly and take a picture from under the door when they will be in the heat of the action, and put it on my Facebook page! I have at least three hundred students of the uni in my friends list! That's going to be hilarious!"  
Her eyes glittered with pride at her oh-so-good idea.

"Ok." I simply told her. My own oh-so-good idea had just crossed my mind...


	15. Chapter 15

_**Note: **I'm on a writing spree, it won't last forever since I doubt I'll have as much time to write next week but enjoy until it lasts!  
Shameless self advertising: in case you didn't already read it, I posted a oneshot called "I was made for loving you"._**  
**_Oh, and although this chapter and the following are predictable, they are necessary for the evolution of Matt and Mello's relationship after that, because everything is based on that event.  
So yes, cliffhanger, but what's next is so predictable that it doesn't even count as one._**  


* * *

****Matt**  
My father and I managed to repair the old hag's car in time. I could sense my father's nervousness as she constantly bent over us to ask if it would be done on time, talking to us like if we were retards. Working with our hands doesn't mean we're brainless, you cunt.

It was around 10pm when we got home, after finishing with Brownhill's car. My father's mood was light and he was quite relieved now that the big stuff was over. He tended to become a ball of nerves when he had timelines to keep up with and it was good to see him relaxed. Not to say that the old woman had paid a lot, and Brownhill's payment would be consequent too. My mother's birthday approaching, he had been anxious not to be able to afford that particular jewel he wanted to offer her. She would say she didn't need such an expensive present, and then she would wear it all the time. The thought made me smile. I hoped I would find that special someone one day too, but I had time to have fun before that.

After diner, I retreated in my bedroom and sat at my computer's desk. Once I was sure that my parents were asleep, one hour of playing online games later, I shamelessly clicked on one of my favorite porn sites links. I'm a guy, ok? It's part of the package. At least for me. Stereotypical maybe, but heh.  
My thoughts had drifted to Annie (wow, it was one of the rare times I remembered the name of one of my fucks) and the way she had blown me off in the uni's toilets, and I felt a sudden urge in my pants. I unzipped my jeans and freed the beast.

As I was in the middle of jerking off, watching from a distracted eye the blonde porn actress being filled on both ends on my screen, the close up on her full mouth suddenly cut me off, as my mind played the worst trick on me ever: imagining Mihael at her place. It was probably due to all the teasing he had done on me lately, plus the fact the pornstar was a blonde, but I was unable to erase that image from my mind once it came to it.  
I was horrified. Petrified. Castrated.  
My dick became flacid so quickly that I just stared at it while nausea gained me.  
Why on earth did I have to imagine Mihael sucking me off? WHY?  
Totally turned off, I lit my computer off and went to bed. But as soon as I pulled the sheets open, I remembered that he had slept there. Naked.  
I wasn't a believer but right at that moment I could have, since all of this could as well have been a godly punishment.  
I changed the sheets, promised to be a good boy from now on to whoever's above, and fell asleep.

I didn't even have time to park my car at uni the next day that I saw Annie run to me from the parking's entrance, like if she had been waiting for me. Well, obviously she had.  
"Matt! What about going out this evening? I've heard of that party at the new cafe that's opening downtown..."  
I didn't want to sound harsh, but I cut her off nonetheless: "I'm working with my father tonight, I don't have time."  
If there was something I disliked, it was sticky girls. Some ended thinking that because I fucked them twice, we were in a relationship. Although Annie didn't seem to be that type of girl, more of the very open-minded (and open-legged) ones that just say yes whenever they have the opportunity.  
"It begins at nine, you don't work that late, do you?" she pouted slightly but fortunately didn't whine. It was true, I probably wouldn't work that late, yesterday was an exception but my father and me usually finished around 8pm more or less.  
"I'm not fond of parties... too many people." That was true.  
"Well..." she squished her boobs against my chest, "we could always find a quiet place in the cafe and have our own little private party... see?"  
She was such a whore, it was even too much for me. But you don't refuse such an invitation, plus she added something that achieved to convince me: "We could be as loud as we want, with the music from the dancefloor and the pinballs and games sounds, they won't hear us, and I want you to make me scream, Matt..."  
Games? I'm in.

**Mello**  
Layla insisted to clutch to my arm while we walked from the bus stop where we'd met to the cafe. I kept on tugging on it to free me, and she kept on encircling it with both hers tightly.  
I was doing that for the sole purpose of winning my bet, otherwise she'd already be on the pavement beaten to a pulp. The bitch didn't deserve what Mail had done to her, but I hadn't forgotten the way she had treated me in the parking lot, on the day when Mail had hit me with his car. She eventually would pay for that tonight, depending on how things worked for me. You don't fuck with me and then ask for a favor, and she was gonna learn it soon.

Entering the cafe, we sat in the booth that was the farther from the door, and the less exposed. Face to face, it was harder for her to molest me.  
Not that she tried anymore, she knew I was gay and fortunately didn't nourish any hope concerning me.  
I was slowly sipping a chocolate milkshake (that I had made her pay for, heh) when Mail appeared. He didn't see me (well, what were the odds that he spotted me facing the person I was less likely to be with, and dressed in dark jeans, black shirt instead of leather?) and went to sit in one of the most animated area of the cafe beside Annie.  
I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of what would come later.  
"Don't smile like this, you don't stand a chance with me... hey, what's your name? I don't even know it!" Layla scolded me. The stupid chick thought I was smiling to her. Hilarious.  
"Even if I wasn't gay, you wouldn't stand a chance with me, _Layla_." I gave her my coldest look, freezing her confidence right away, emphasizing her name to make her understand that I knew hers and that she wasn't close to hear mine.

And it was true, even if I had liked girls, I was gone so far that I would probably only fall for a petite redhead with freckles. And deep blue eyes.

"You're weird." she spat, turning around to glance at Mail and Annie.  
"Thanks." I chuckled. She was kind of funny, typical girl, typical 'everything-I-dislike-about-girls'. I'd have great times making fun of her, especially since she was too stupid to notice. I'm so mean.

**Matt**  
There were a lot of students inside of the cafe. I felt a bit uncomfortable at first because I had arrived with a girl, and I didn't want anyone to think I was with Annie that way. I didn't want to ruin my chances with other girls.  
But my confidence was back quickly when I sat at a table already full of other guys and girls, and all girls magically turned to me (the face the guys made, aha, priceless!). I'm that awesome.  
I shot my best smile, but Annie kinda lost hers. Heh, I'll make you scream as you asked, don't worry babe, but I have time to discover other voices screaming tonight. It's so good to be a eighteen years old guy, sexually speaking. Hormones never tire.

After a few drinks (alcohol free, I wasn't legal on that point after all, and the cafe didn't allow it anyway), I settled in front of an old gaming machine. PacMan. I love that stuff. Old school games rule. Surrounded by a few girls squealing each time I gained a level, I was in heaven. I'd just have to make my choice later.

Annie tugged on my sleeve a while later. I glanced at my cellphone and discovered I had been playing during almost two hours, it was close to 11pm. She made a disappointed face as I had ignored her for quite some time, but it was soon replaced by a mischievous smile. Sex time baby!  
We discreetly headed for the toilets, but it was crowded at the moment and there was no way we could do anything.  
I went back for a drink, offering one to Annie (I'm always a gentleman _before_), and I saw Layla coming to fetch a drink at the bar. She didn't look at me although she was real close. I guess she had moved on.  
I gulped the rest of my Coke and went back to the toilets, this time to use them for what they're really for.  
"Check if there are still people there, if I don't see you in five minutes, I'm joining you in the men's room." Annie purred before I left the bar. Worked for me.

**Mello**  
I saw Layla's eyes light as she was almost elbow to elbow with Mail at the bar. She came back quickly to our table, excited.  
"Annie's going to join Matt in the men's toilets in five minutes if he doesn't come back before, that's my chance!"  
She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small camera, then made her way to the toilets.  
I followed when I saw Annie move on with her plan. I was closer than her and as she arrived near the restrooms doors, I acted as if I was exiting the men's room.  
"If you're looking for Matt, he's outside, he felt sick and needed some fresh air, he asked me to tell you."  
It was lame and predictable, but she bought it. She looked very, very disappointed. But she headed outside.  
Now Layla. She was probably already in. Or not. I saw her exit the women's room, mouthing a silent "What?" at my glare. Oh, nothing, it's true that you always have time for a piss when you expect to catch people in the act.

Now I had to think, and quick.  
"I'm going in, just in case he's not in a booth yet."  
"Huh?" she looked at me questioningly, her camera swaying at the end of the tie she had around her wrist.  
"It's the mens' room you dork, if you go in and he sees you, you're screwed." I explained, rolling my eyes. Could she be that stupid? "If you don't see me out in one minute, it means you can come in, and be silent, ok?"  
"'Kay, but how will I know which booth they are in?"  
"The noise." I sighed. She really was _that_ stupid.  
She nodded, and I entered the toilets.


	16. Chapter 16

**Mello**  
The restroom was silent, but the shadow cast from under one of the booths told me which one Mail was in. I quickly tied my hair in a ponytail, then reached for the light switch and plunged the room in the dark, locked the main door to prevent Layla from entering (there was no way I would let her interrupt with the flash of her camera), before grazing my nails against Mail's door lightly.  
"Annie?" I heard him whisper while opening the door and letting me in. I slammed the door shut, locked it and pinned him to the wall (well, trying not to look too strong, I would be unmasked too fast overwise), going directly to his neck, tasting that milky skin. He moaned and chuckled at the same time. I refrained myself from chuckling back, since there was no way I could pull out a girly voice, but I was satisfied with my plan, and the way it felt to have him this way.  
But I had to stay calm, despite the loud thuds of my heart. I usually got the guys I wanted quite fast, so I never had to wait that long, and the... indescribable feeling in my guts was foreign to me.

I slid my hands under his shirt. Fuck, his skin was so warm, so soft...  
I tried to refrain everything that could have been labeled 'gay', even if I'm fully aware girls do that too. Just in case. I didn't know Annie's little tricks so I would stick to regular touches. I didn't touch his nipples, not did I squeeze his butt, although I craved for those.  
And I prayed that he wouldn't want to grope my boobs because he would only find my flat chest.  
But I didn't give him time to make a move. I unzipped his pants, and knelt.  
I had thought it would come to this, thus the jeans I was wearing. No leather creaking sound that would give me away.  
"Mmh... you're fast..." he groaned as I pulled his dick out of his boxers. His breath itched when I licked the precum on the tip. Swallowing his whole length in one go, I recognised the scent of the soap I had used in his shower. At least he seemed to wash it everyday (you don't imagine how long some guys go without a shower, it's a total turn off for me when a guy stinks).

He was now moaning, as I bobbed my head up and down his erection, and I could tell he was biting his lip or something because of the stiffled sounds he made. Who's gonna make scream who?  
"Annie..." he whispered, "Mmh... you're even better at this than last time..." his voice was husky, low, and I could feel my blood irrigate my lower half so fast it hurt. I was better than her. Insert victory sign here.

It was hard (no pun intented) not to turn him face against the wall and rape him where he stood.  
I continued sucking him off, pumping him with my non damaged hand, sometimes caressing his balls.  
I barely heard some fumbling with the main door at some point but Layla or whoever it was gave up after a few seconds. Good.

Little by little, I felt Mail's thighs tense, until he grabbed the back of my head and almost gagged me (gentleman much?), shooting his load inside of my mouth.  
He exhaled loudly. "Wow. You're really amazing... I don't know how you do that but it's impossible to last with you..."  
That was true, he didn't even last five minutes, or at least that's how long it seemed to me. I'm that good. Or he's a premate ejaculator. _That _would be lame.

I stood up, wiping the cum that had run along my chin, and licked my fingers. I could get used to his taste...  
I heard him zip his jeans. Really, really a gentleman...  
The way it went, I didn't hesitate. I could consider I had won my bet (although it would be way funnier when _he_ would know too), but that didn't mean I couldn't take some extras.  
I grabbed his face between my palms and kissed him. He deepened it quickly, snaking his arms around my waist. He broke the kiss suddenly and I thought he had realised... But he resumed kissing me after a few silent seconds. Strange.  
His hands descended to grope my ass and he murmured against my lips: "I guess I should return the favor..."  
I didn't have the time to find a way to distract him. His hand reached the front of my pants and it was over.

He pushed me hard and I landed back against the opposite wall, the shock forcing the air out of my lungs.  
I couldn't see him in this darkness, but I didn't need to, to know he was angry. Well, I expected it, of course.  
But the fact he didn't say a word...  
I stayed silent, waiting for him to speak. It lasted a long minute before he made a sound.  
But this, I hadn't expected. He sniffled. No, he couldn't be crying?  
Oh God, what a baby!  
"Don't tell me you're crying for that?" I mocked him.  
"Get out. Leave me alone." he replied, his voice broken. It was barely audible, and yet it held a rage I had never witnessed before in anyone.  
"Not returning the favor, I guess?" I chuckled. So much drama for such a little joke, "Well, at least I won my bet, you'll never say that I don't turn you on again."

I unlocked the booth and left the toilets, heading outside, Layla on my heels trying to catch up with me.  
"Hey! Why did you lock up the door? You ruined my plan, I'm sure you did it on purpose!" she yelled at me. Me? On purpose? Smart girl.  
I turned around, slapped away her hand that was gripping my arm, and told her to fuck off in a tone that dissuaded her to follow.  
Then it was Annie's turn...  
Attack of the Stupid Chicks, and I had the main role.  
"Where's Matt? You told me he was outside, I've searched for him everyw..." she stopped and I followed her gaze as she looked behind me all of a sudden.

Mail was approaching, hunched, looking down. Annie walked to him: "Matt! Where were you? I..."  
"Leave me the fuck alone." his voice was stone cold. I saw the girl's eyes become wide before she began to shout insults at him.  
"You bastard! What do you think? I can get any other guy just by snapping my fingers! Who do you think you are?" But he just ignored her, leaving her staring, mouth hanging open.  
He walked past me, grabbing my arm roughly in the process, and pulled me violently until we reached the place where he had parked his car, away from the crowd gathered in front of the cafe. I was so surprised that I didn't even react.

He let go of me and sat on the hood of his Camaro. His stance was miserable, as he kept on looking down.  
But he finally talked.  
"I'm not gay."  
Well, thank you, I didn't know that.  
"Considering the way you enjoyed what I did to you..." I replied flatly. I had won my bet, why deny it?  
"I'M NOT GAY!" he screamed, looking at me. His eyes were bright with tears, and I felt a pinch in my chest, "The only thing you won is that I'm now totally sure I was wrong to try to understand you, gays are animals, you're as dirty as I thought you were, you're just sick."  
He stopped. His face was so pale that I thought he would throw up. "_You_ make me sick..."  
"You're overreacting Mail, it was only a fucking joke! I just wanted to prove you that I could turn you on, now it's done, let's forget it for fuck's sake, it's not that horrible, you liked it, right?" He had come in my mouth, it was obvious he had appreciated my little treat!  
"I thought you were Annie! There was no way I would have enjoyed it otherwise, you disgust me Mihael! You didn't win any bet, you just..."  
He stopped, a sob escaping him. "I feel raped..." he murmured, his hands fisting his hair.

This time he was really crying.  
I lost it. I don't exactly know what happened in me but something broke. I didn't want that. I didn't want to see him like this, curled on himself. He seemed shocked, it wasn't just an overreaction. It freaked me out.  
For probably the first time in my life, I was considering that maybe I had gone too far.  
"Mail..." I approached closer and squeezed his shoulder. He jumped on his feet violently, putting distance between us.  
"Don't touch me!" he yelled, and oh, the look in his eyes... He looked totally dephased, lost.  
Haggard, he sat in his car and drove away. I watched his backlights until they faded. I didn't know what to think. My usual self tended to think he would get over it and laugh about that the next day, but another part of me I didn't know that well was already thinking of ways to apologize.  
Apologize? I was really losing it.

**Matt**  
I couldn't believe it. My mind refused to process it. It wasn't Mihael with me in the booth. I hadn't been sucked off by _a guy_. I hadn't kissed _a guy_.  
But my body was giving in to the sick feeling against my will. My body knew, and was reacting in accordance.  
Just when I was beginning to think he was probably worth knowing, just when I had almost convinced myself that his teasing and squeezes of my thigh were only jokes, innocent jokes, I was thrown in a far from innocent game where I was only a prey to him. Maybe he had planned that from the first day he saw me, maybe he had lied to me all along, maybe... he was really sick, rotten to the bone by his homosexuality.  
Then it would explain everything, make me a victim, abused by a monster.

So why did I begin to cry?  
The nausea, the rejection of what he'd done to me was normal, I really felt sick, disgusted, but crying?  
Then he talked, taking the joke even further, mocking me, pulling me down, lower. Not only had he... raped me, yes, that was rape... but he even denied my reactions to it. I had no doubts anymore, he wasn't the possible friend I had imagined, there was nothing in him worth interest. He was just a cold, calculating and dirty creature. An abomination.

I struggled against the will to curl up and lay there in the toilets booth, and left the cafe.  
But when I saw him outside, the rage that had been boiling in me from the moment I had discovered that it was him and not Annie just took everything over. I forced him away from the cafe, away from ear reach. I thought I would explode, and at the same time, I felt so drained...

But as much as I insulted him, I didn't feel any better, and it didn't affect him anyway. If he showed at least a little regret, something human, but no... nothing. Hearing him insinuate that I liked what he did, what_ a guy_ did to me just killed me. I wasn't like this!

I had to get away from him. He was even trying to touch me again. No!  
I needed a shower, I needed to erase the still tingling feeling of his hands on me, I felt sticky, dirty, my skin was itching...  
I took my car and left.

Once home, I stayed probably half an hour under the shower. I would have stayed longer but my mother scolded me for using too much water.  
Did she see anything on me? Was I different? Marked?  
I had the impression that everyone would know what Mihael did to me, like a neon sign on my forehead... Would I be harassed by other gays now? Would girls runaway from me?

I curled up in my bed, and fell asleep hours of thrashing and tossing and turning later...


	17. Chapter 17

**Matt**  
I drove to uni the next day, but once I approached the campus, I made a U-turn and drove away. I had forced myself out of bed, mostly not to worry my parents, spent an hour under the shower without being able to feel clean, got dressed and left, my mother forcing a pancake in my mouth as I passed the doorframe to exit the apartment. I didn't feel like eating at all, nausea gaining me again as the hardly munched crepe slid in my throat.

I couldn't do it. Go sit in the amphiteatre and see him. He wouldn't probably dare to sit beside me, although I doubted he'd care about my personal space. Needless to say that my personal space had increased a lot since last night.  
I headed downtown, parked and sat in a cafe, ordering an expresso.  
I needed to get over what happened. I was still shocked, but I couldn't stand the way I felt, I needed to erase that feeling, it made me so sick, it was unbearable. Reasoning myself didn't work, not even after two hours and four expressos. All I won was a cafeine overdose, my fingers nervously tapping the table. And I wasn't supposed to spend money like this. My parents were kind enough to give me some money every week but I should rather spare it for something more valuable than coffee.

As I left the cafe, I had found a way to get over what Mihael had done to me. Driving back to the campus, I got out of my Camaro, rested my back on my car, in the parking lot, and waited.  
Two cocky smiles and a wink later, I had what I wanted, and left for the gaming arcade. I didn't play, wanting to keep my money, but looking at others helped me to relax and spend the rest of the time I had before going home.  
I left again after dinner, promising my parents I would be back before 2am (damn curfew!), and met my date a few minutes later in the parking of a disco.

But we never made it to the disco itself. Only my Camaro danced as I jumped the pretty chestnut haired student on the backseat. I was gentleman enough to drive her home, and it saved me the money for entering the disco and get a few drinks. All benefit.

I did exactly the same the next three days, but the chick eventually got tired of not getting inside of the disco and cancelled our date on the fourth day. Good. I was getting tired of fucking the same girl.

Not all the girls at uni were bitches, and fishing in the parking lot wasn't that easy after a while. I discovered that many thought I could be a regular boyfriend, when all I wanted was a hot time with them, so that couldn't work anymore, I had to find a new hunting field.  
But I had plenty of time for that since I was skipping classes. So I finally found myself in a glaucous club the next afternoon.  
It was suspicious from the beginning since I wasn't legal and got in freely, and that in the middle of the afternoon it was already crowded.  
I quickly understood that as long as you pay for your drinks, expensive as they were, they just didn't give a fuck about your age. And the bartender looked high as shit.  
My eyes never left her hands as she served me a beer, careful that she didn't slip something in my drink. Why was I here, I wondered.

The girls. I was quickly reminded that I was here for the girls, as one that I had kinda followed in here from a distance, finding her really hot, sat on the stool next to mine. No, I wasn't offering a drink, too expensive, babe.  
She seemed unphased by my lack of drink offer, got herself some complicated cocktail, and began some small talk with the bartender.  
Both were eyeing me and if I hadn't had some alcohol in my system, I would probably have worried.

The brunette on the nearby stool suddenly hopped off it and within seconds she was kissing my neck.  
"I like them young..." she whispered in my ear, and from that close I could tell she was probaly thirty or something, and very pretty. I had no objection, even if she was now groping me in public, but I quickly noticed some other couples engaged in heated activities in the dark red velvety couches around. Very, very glaucous...

"I don't have money." I decided to tell her, suspecting she was a professional. She opened wide eyes then laughed out loud.  
"All I care for is that you have a dick, actually." she licked my earshell and nipped at the lobe lightly, "Young guys have more stamina..."  
The bartender was smiling suggestively at the sight of us, and she waved at some guy in the background. The guy, a large italian looking one, took her place behind the counter, and she headed for a backdoor.  
Soon, the woman that was all over me pushed me gently off my stool and to the door, in the bartender's footsteps. The door slammed behind her and I freaked out, which both saw very obviously, as I discovered I was locked with two older women in a stockroom.  
"Hey, easy hun, that's just my girlfriend, we're only here for a good time... not in for two pussies?"

Heh. Threesome? Kinky...  
My dick was more than agreeing, actually, and the alcohol (I wasn't used to it at all, thus the quick effect on me) did the rest.  
I found myself half sat on a Smirnoff vodka stock being sucked off by the bartender while I was kissing (well, she was more sort of slobbering me all over) her girlfriend. In a matter of minutes, I was taking the brunette doggystyle while she was nested head first between the bartender's legs.  
I don't know how many times they switched until I splattered the bartender's boobs when I came, but fuck, it was an experience I wouldn't forget, especially when the other licked my cum off her girlfriend's breasts and they finished each other in a hot sixty nine, one giving me a handjob at the same time.  
I came down from my high, looking at the two women get dressed.  
"Come back anytime cutie, we're here almost everyday." the bartender winked at me before we exited the stockroom. No one among the present customers seemed surprised or gave us a look, although I'm pretty sure they hadn't missed the loud moans emitted by the two women a few minutes earlier.

It's only when I sat back in my car when I left the place that I realised how stupid I had been.  
Coming in the less recommended area of the city, entering a bar that I had known was glaucous at the sole sight of the façade, ordering alcohol although I knew I couldn't stand it, taking the risk of it getting spiked, and then having sex with two perfect strangers without condom.  
I always used condoms. Now at best I'd have some curable STD, if I didn't end up with AIDS. And I had spent ten bucks on a beer, great. Oh wait, I didn't even pay (unless you consider I paid with my person...).

The things Mihael made me do... all of this was driving me insane, I had to stop it. And I had to have an AIDS test done on me later. Fantastic.

The next day, I was back at uni, praying not to meet him.

**Mello**  
I wondered if Mail had just skipped uni the first day, but began to worry he would never come back after almost one week of not seeing him, not even when I stalked to the classes he had without me, that he could have attended if he didn't want to see me since I wasn't taking them.  
I knew where he lived and had decided I would walk there the next week if I didn't see him until then. I knew I had fucked things up, but without meeting him, there was no way I could bring him to get over this stupid joke. What a drama for almost nothing! (And he had enjoyed it, for fuck's sake!)

So when I saw him enter the amphiteatre after a few days, I knew I had a chance to get things back to normal.  
He sat as far as me as he could, and although he didn't look at me once, not even when he came in, it told me he had seen me. I would have to catch him at the end of the lesson.

When the two hours ended, I had to hurry because Mail obviously wanted to run away as fast as he could, and he was already heading for the parking lot when I exited the building.  
I ran to catch up with his steady pace, but he ignored me, although I was sure he could hear the sound of my boots beating the pavement behind him. That wasn't gonna be easy. He sat in his car and roared it to life.  
But I was faster this time, pulling the driver's door open (I would have opened the passenger's door to sit beside him but it was probably locked since it was an old car and it didn't have an automatic opening system).

"Hey! Get away!" he yelled at me, trying to pull the door back closed, but I was in the way.  
"Not before we talk."  
"I don't have anything to tell you, now leave me alone, I don't want to see you again, 'kay?" he snarled and fought some more against my grip on the door, but I entered head first in his car, crawling on all four past him to sit at the passenger's place.  
"Mihael!" he screamed, as my knee dangerously brushed his crotch, "Get the fuck out!"  
But it was too late, and somehow, he knew it, as he looked at me, desperately sighing.

I smirked, but he shook his head.  
"Why can I never win against you? Why do you always do only what you want? Damnit Mihael, what the hell makes you think you can treat people like you do?" he was now rubbing his temples, "People have feelings you know, they're not all heartless like you..."  
"I'm not like that..." I began, but he cut me off.  
"Oh yeah? Do you feel anything else than self satisfaction? Do you even care about anyone else than you? I doubt it Mihael, I highly doubt it! You raped me damnit! You didn't have the right to do that on the sole purpose of winning a fucking bet! What would you do if, I don't know, Layla had sucked you off when you thought she was a guy? Hmm, maybe you are bi so it doesn't even count..."  
"I'm not..."  
"Whatever, you didn't have the right! All this fucking lost time to try to understand you, all this internet shit I read, that's just bullshit! You're a sick perv, that's all you are!"  
I let him yell everything he wanted, taking the blow of words until it drained out, thinking he would calm down after that. But he went on and on, and the neverending rant sank into me, leaving an insidious feeling in its tracks. A feeling foreign to me, and very unpleasant on top of that. Regret.

The more he talked, the more it appeared to me that what I had done had gone beyond a simple joke. Not that I hadn't already understood that he hadn't found it funny, but now I was understanding that he felt hurt. The use of the 'rape' word for the second time was revealing the depth of the wound. Damn, I had really fucked up... and slowly it occured to me that he wouldn't just get over it by a snap of fingers.  
I didn't want to admit it, but I guess I had made a huge mistake...

I looked at him, ready to say that I was sorry (although I was pretty aware that the S word wouldn't be enough, but that was a place to start), but my voice didn't come out. He was looking back at me, and the still very theorical knowledge of the hurt I had inflincted to him became suddenly as painful to me as if made with a burning iron. I was feeling, all at the same time, butterflies and needles in my stomach.

"Why?" he murmured, his anger now gone, "Can you at least give me a reason for what you did?"  
I was still staring at him, unable to utter a single word under those eyes.  
"I need a reason Mihael. I want to believe that it was not just a disgusting random act, that you didn't lie to me until now, because right now I'm letting you beside me although I should kick you out of my car, and I don't even know what is making me want to find you excuses."  
That was it. The very precise thing that had made me fall for him, the genuine interest, the sincerity, the heart under the cocky attitude.  
I felt even worse now, because no matter how bad what I did was, Mail was still ready to hear me.  
And what else could I have answered than: "I'm in love with you."


	18. Chapter 18

_**Note: **Technically it's already sunday in France since it's past midnight, but oh well... it's the saturday update anyway! I'm a bit late because I couldn't put myself to write before 11pm. This chapter is short, but it still stands as one full chapter, I didn't have anything to add to that part. I needed Matt to come back on what Mello had already described, to explain Matt's POV since it was a lot about his feelings._  
_I try not to do that too much in this fic, but sometimes it's necessary for understanding._  
_I've written this with Vains of Jenna blaring in my earphones to cover the baby crying in the apartment above mine, so well, since I don't feel like proofreading myself, you can blame Lizzy DeVine for the typos (because it's not easy to type and sing at the same time). And no, me singing wasn't the reason why the baby was crying. Pfff!_**  


* * *

Matt**  
I was stuck with Mihael holding the door of my car in hostage. I wanted to runaway, to put as much distance between us as possible, but he didn't seem to be in the mood for taking my wishes into account. Like usual.  
I was about to resume driving with or without my door closed and I didn't give a fuck if I drove on his feet in the process, but he probably saw me coming and forced his way inside my car, invading the small space on all four until he reached the passenger's seat. Ouch! My dick!

No matter what I would say (or yell), Mihael would only do what he wanted, this was something I knew was useless to fight. Why did it have to be me? Fuck. Now what?  
I sighed, knowing that I didn't stand a chance against such a hard head, and that no matter what I did, if he wanted a talk, he would have it. It wasn't because of his physical strength, and he didn't scare me either, I didn't even understand why I always ended accepting what he forced on me. He must have had special powers or something...

But my patience had limits, and I began the verbal fight. He may have imposed himself to me right now, I still had some nerve. And he smirked, which set me off. He wasn't serious, he was still having fun to my expense!  
I snapped at him, throwing at his face everything that crossed my mind.  
He barely replied, he wasn't even trying to defend himself, but he was looking at me straight in the eyes and I hated that it was making me lose my countenance when I was trying to win this over him. Did I even stand a chance? Not being convinced, I was a poor advocate to myself and once all my bile drained out, I just felt weak under his gaze.

But suddenly, his cold look faltered, like if the icebergs that were supposed to be his irises were starting to melt, and he blinked several times as I stopped talking/shouting. I'm pretty sure it was one more of his tricks, but he looked... sad.  
No! He wasn't supposed to be sad! Guilty, remorseful, ashamed, whatever, but not sad! Damn, I wasn't even close to understand the way this guy worked, and it was a real problem considering the way he was toying with me.  
No matter how much I believed he was just a sick pervert, he had never looked more human than now. I wasn't used to see anything else than a smirk or a glare on his face and I was kinda abashed.

Back off Mail, back off. He's only playing!  
So why am I tolerating his presence in my car, can someone tell me? And no, I didn't want him as a friend, and I was far from still wanting to know more about him. Actually, I just wanted to forget until his very existence, even if I wasn't close to do it with his insistence.

Pathetic. That's all I was right now. Über pathetic.  
He did dirty things to me, he glued me like a bloodsucker (well, not blood, but oh fuck, why did I go there?...), and all I was thinking right now was that I wanted a reason, a real reason, for what he was making me live.  
If he actually had some kind of humanity and wasn't a cold bastard like he looked like (well, except now, he looked everything but cold, he looked... on fire. WTF?) it would make things easier for me. I really wanted to get rid of the sick feeling that hadn't left me since he...  
I just couldn't live with it. The only option I had was to know that it was just a mistake, that ok, he wanted to win the bet and had gone too far, but that it was just a rock on the road, not his usual behaviour.  
I knew he was the kind to take what he wanted when he wanted, but he had seemed sincere before that, with my parents, with me, even in the middle of the teasing, the sexual jokes and the random egoism.  
I wanted to believe that he had flaws, not that he was completely rotten from the inside.

Most of all, I wanted to reassure myself that I hadn't been wrong about what I had seen in him, the potential friend, the interesting person, because otherwise, I'd never be able to trust anyone, I'd become paranoid, unable to have faith in my perception of people. And that would make me pretty fucked up.

"I need a reason Mihael. I want to believe that it was not just a disgusting random act, that you didn't lie to me until now, because right now I'm letting you beside me although I should kick you out of my car, and I don't even know what is making me want to find you excuses."  
I knew what it was, but I didn't want him to know. The shock was gone, only my own paranoia was still present, and if he was the cold calculating person I didn't want him to be, then I didn't want him to have a chance to take it to his advantage. Maybe I should have.

"I'm in love with you."  
Oh. Shit.

My only reply to that was to send my fist in his face. He winced, but didn't fight back. At that point, I didn't care anymore that he was stronger or more skilled than me physically. It was too much! Why couldn't he just be acting normal? Why did he have to make fun of me all the time?  
I exploded once again.  
"Get out! Get the fuck out of my car! You never stop your stupid games and I've had enough! What's wrong with you? Are you so mentally disabled that you don't know when it's time to stop? Why do I even try to make you understand anything, you're stupid, FUCKING STUPID! GET OUT!"

His gaze turned cold again, and his stance changed, letting me know I had hit a sensitive string.  
He straightened in his (well, my, technically) seat, but he didn't leave and something told me he wasn't done with me. Damn him.

"You wanted a reason, I gave it to you. I would almost have said that now, you do what you want with what I said, but it's just not like me. Maybe I went too far, but I don't regret doing what I did because I totally acknowledged the fact that you're not gay, and that was probably the single chance I'd have to touch you at least once. I only regret that it led you to become paranoid and throw my sincerity by the window when I was, and am being right now totally true to you. So I'll have to prove you that I never lied to you, and that I'm not the sick bastard you think I am. Therefore, Mail, I'm afraid you will have to bear with me a little bit longer."

On those words, that he uttered in a very solemn (but mocking, the bloody jerk) tone, he slid out of my car and swayed his way out of the parking lot. Even only seeing his back, I was sure he had that smirk on, the one that makes me want to slap him hard.  
I stared as long as he was in sight, his words sinking in.

And suddenly I burst out into laughters. The fucking prick had just proved all at once that he wasn't the least stupid, besetting the exact reasons for my questions and doubts, that he was sort of apologizing without sounding that he was, not cracking his image, that he had feelings, since all of this touched him to the point that he had to prove his sincerity, showing that he cared about the situation, still not looking like he was, and on top of that, he phrased it well enough to shut me up.  
But the same fucking prick clearly didn't give up on his worst trait. He was so fucking stubborn that I had no other choice than to resign myself to the fact he'd be in my way for some more time.  
But damn, I think I was kinda curious as to how he's try to convince me. Because now, he'd have to use stratagems totally opposite to what he had done until now, and I doubted that he could pull out anything else than stupid sex jokes and teasing.

And somehow, I already had the answer to my question.  
I knew he was sincere. I knew he hadn't lied to me, and it was making things easier, I could almost feel normal again. Well, if I thought about what he had done, I was still feeling disgusted, but I think I could forgive him someday. Maybe.

As much as I hated to rethink about that particular event, there was a song that summed up everything I needed to know about him. You know, the Shoop Shoop Song...  
_If you wanna know if he loves you so it's in his kiss...  


* * *

**Note** (yes, again)**:** I didn't want to add it to the chapter itself as part of it since it was ruining the end of it, so I thought I'd remind my readers about the moment when Mihael kisses Mail, and Mail breaks the kiss for a few seconds before kissing him again. This slight hesitation is the key, it's when Mail noticed something in the kiss, although he thought it was Annie at that moment. Actually, he was telling himself that the kiss was very tender and loving and was afraid that Annie fell in love with him since he doesn't want a regular girlfriend. Maybe I'm explaining the obvious though XD  
Oh, and the song is an old song (1964) by Betty Everett, that Cher covered in 1990 ^^_


	19. Chapter 19

**_Note: _**_Oh my! I'm back! You didn't expect me here anymore, did you? Like I promised, my stories will be finished someday, and I always keep my promises. But this one's far from being finished! Onto chapter 19!_  
_Oh, just before I stop babbling in this author note, I'd like to thank all the wonderful people that sent me messages, asking when I would update, worrying that I'd never update anymore, or simply encouraging me or sending me kind words. I can't reply to you all personnally because I got something like 50+ private messages, but I love you all, dear readers!_  
_I hope you enjoy this chapter! Next one will not wait 6 months before being posted, it will come next week end, so very soon! I'm back for good, don't worry! Other stories will be updated too, although I can't tell you when!_  
**

* * *

Mello  
**As I left the parking lot, leaving Mail in his car behind me, I tried to keep walking like I was used to, but my whole body seemed to stiffen against my will, my usual catwalk being hard to sustain. Truth was, my heart was beating faster, and I was confused. I had never confessed anyone my feelings like I just had done with Mail. And while I was telling him that I was in love with him, it suddenly came to my mind how bitter the situation was: I was in love with someone that would probably never feel the same. I was aware, although lying to me was easier, that Mail wasn't gay, and that my hopes were, well, hopeless...  
It had been a game until now, but I just had come to realise that I couldn't fuck this up, that losing the chance to be in his presence, at least as a friend, wasn't an option. I had to show him I was not a sick pervert, and I would have to do what I had fought against all my life, or at least since I had discovered I was gay: showing my feelings, and who I really was. I knew it wouldn't be difficult, I had almost cried while he was shouting at me in his car, he had that ability to turn me into mush, but still, I wasn't used to, and I was afraid, because it wasn't normal, people never had that effect on me, usually. I wasn't someone easily influenced or impressed.  
It's not that I was lying about myself, I really was stubborn, mocking, very self assured, but I was leaving the rest hidden deep under my leather, a dead skin to hide my real skin, if you like metaphors...

Because I had been in love once, now realising it was just a crush, but still, at that time, it looked important to me, this relationship. Probably because it was my first serious date, not just a good fuck in the backseat of a car or a teenage date. The guy was 24 and I was 17, he was mature compared to my previous boyfriends, and we dated publicly, so I felt free, I felt myself for the first time, which probably added to the importance I gave to this relationship.  
We were together for five months when Valentine's day arrived, and at that moment he was gone for a week on a construction site for his work so I sent him a card, telling him sweet nothings although I had avoided the L word. Something along the lines of "I miss you, I want to be with you, come back so we can be together (forever?)"  
My cell had rang the next morning and I was excited to see it was him, he probably just had my card and was calling to tell me he missed me too.  
The shower was ice cold.  
I took the call and I barely had time to great him before he spoke: "Mello, what's that shi... what is that card for? Don't start with that..."  
I was shocked, but I kept on telling myself I had misunderstood him, but no matter what I said, he just kept on telling me I shouldn't have sent such a card, to stop with this. Stop with this...  
But I didn't have time, because _he_ stopped with this, this relationship I mean. He dumped me when he came back, after a talk in a cafe. Telling me how disappointing I had been, not sticking to his standards (he liked guys with short hair, very muscled, he had kept on telling me but I never thought he actually meant that I had to cut my hair and practise body building, something I'd never have done anyway), that he had given me time but I hadn't changed (so much for thinking you should accept people like they are), putting all the guilt of the failure of this relationship on my back.  
It had hurt like a bitch, although I'm just mad at myself with time, because I should have told him to fuck off on the phone, long before he ended dumping me in that cafe. I had been stupid to hope things would be ok once he was back from his construction site.

And so, no matter how scared I was, I knew that winning Mail as a friend meant to open myself up. But what scared me the most was that I probably had forgotten how to, after years of caving in. I've always had the possibility to express frustration or angriness through sports, sambo being a great relief to that kind of emotions, but anything positive had been locked away for so long that I had no clue where the key was.

Mail, what you're making of me...  
And all that with no hope of getting you as my boyfriend...

Strangely, it didn't feel like a waste of time though. It was still kind of a game, which would keep me entertained for quite some time, I hoped, but most of all, I needed him as a friend, if that was all I could have.  
Needed? Did I really think that? Fuck.

The next day, I saw Mail exit the parking lot where he had just left his Camaro, a few minutes before class. I was coming from the opposite direction, but when he spotted me, he waited for me. I probably looked as surprised as I really was, because once I reached his level, he chuckled: "You'd run after me if I didn't wait, right?"  
"Right." was all I could reply, regretting it immediately. NO I wasn't running after you like a sick puppy, you bastard!  
He lit a cigarette and resumed walking.  
"This is gonna kill you, plus you taste like an ashtray." I stated blankly, pointing at the butt he threw on the floor a few minutes later before we entered the amphitheatre.  
"Aw, would it mean I have a chance that you'll never try to kiss me anymore?" he smirked, while I was stirring my addiction from my pocket.  
"Keep dreaming, I'd cover the taste with my own quickly." I winked at him, snapping a chunk of my chocolate bar.  
"Now that you say it... I should have known it was you... the taste of chocolate was strong." he muttered, walking behind me. He didn't seem shocked or worried or anything, did he get over what happened? He was talking about it so freely...  
Mail nudged me and I realised I had stopped in the middle of the way, my mind wandering to the way it had felt to kiss him, and we took seats just as the class began. But I couldn't care less, I was still kissing him in my head.

**Matt**  
I _know_ what he was thinking about, sat beside me while the teacher was beginning to note events and dates on the blackboard, and it was nothing related to ancient Rome, believe me. And I really didn't want him to think of me that way, but I guess that since I couldn't even control the way he acted with me, there was no hope to control his thoughts. As long as he didn't utter them loud and clear, I guess it was fine, although the look in his absent eyes gave me shivers. It was a mix of lust and something else that I didn't want to be love. But I knew it was.  
The funnier being that even if he had been a girl, it would have sent shivers through my spine. Real serious feelings of love, from anyone, a gay guy or a girl, were a big no no. No engagement, thanks.

The class was long and boring, although I registered everything, so I was happy when it finally ended. My stomach growled, reminding me that it was lunch time.  
"Do you have classes this afternoon?" Mihael asked me as we headed outside.  
"Nope." The question was a bit stupid since none of us had finally switched classes, so we still had the same classes most of the time, except on mondays and thursdays mornings. Since it was friday, he should've known it was the week end for me, just like for him.  
"Up for lunch in town?" he gave me the most hopeful look I've ever seen. Trick or not, I was hungry and willing to avoid the cafeteria's food so I nodded: "You want to go somewhere in particular?"  
Mihael smiled in a way that made me expect the worst. He hoped in my car as I opened the passenger's door from the inside, and we drove away, while he gave me directions from time to time.

I quickly understood where he was leading me: the new cafe where he... well, where things I didn't want to happen had happened a few days ago. I looked at him, probably looking angry.  
"It's not what you think, I'd just like you to associate that place to something nice instead of... you know what."  
Fair enough, I guess. And somehow, I thought it was a good idea, and a nice attention from him.

A few minutes later, I was satisfying my empty stomach with a burger, french fries and a huge strawberry milkshake while Mihael ate a Caesar salad with a diet coke.  
"Damn, are you on a diet or something?" I asked him. It was typically girly to be on a diet, to me, and I suddenly wondered if gay guys were the same.  
"Kinda... I counterbalance the chocolate." Mihael replied, sighing.  
"Why don't you just give up the chocolate, so you could eat more than a salad?"  
"I love chocolate, I couldn't live without."  
"I pity you... look, those fries are so tasty, you don't know what you're missing." I teased him, passing one under his nose, "Taste it, it won't kill you!"  
"No, thanks. I don't want to be fat again."  
"Again? You mean you've been fat before? I can't believe you, you're so thin!"  
"I do what it takes to stay like I am but yes, I've been fat."

He then told me a bit of his past, when he was overweight as a teenager, and although it was really hard to imagine him with extra weight, I admired his determination.

"I'm lucky I can eat anything I want, I guess..." I stated.  
"Yes... sometimes I crave food I can't eat, that's depressing."  
"Just one won't kill you Mihael." I teased him again, "Go ahead, I'm full, I can't finish them anyway".  
He seemed to hesitate in front of his empty plate, and finally picked a fry in mine. He ate it slowly, obviously appreciating it.  
We chatted about everything and anything for a good hour, and I didn't say anything to him, not wanting to stop him since he seemed delighted, but Mihael finished all the fries in my plate one by one.  
It's only after a while that he realised it and he looked utterly pissed off.

**Mello**  
"Mail! Why haven't you stopped me!" I glared at him, "Damn you for tempting me, I didn't even realise I ate them all!"  
Fuck, I was so absorbed by his presence that I finished his plate without even noticing I was.  
But it tasted so good! Oh well, Mail was right, it wouldn't kill me, it wasn't like I ate like this everyday.

The problem was that we ended up eating in what became our usual place to hang out at very often the next days since Mail liked the old games in there, and he didn't seem to mind spending time with me. Quickly, at the end of the next week, I could already feel uneasy in my leather. I could only blame myself for picking in Mail's fries since he never finished them, but I blamed him nonetheless.  
I even made him stop at a drugstore to weight myself one afternoon, and the verdict fell: I had gained 3 pounds.

"Just stop eating chocolate for a while." Mail told me, rolling his eyes.  
"I can't." I pouted. No, really, I could never cut on chocolate, "That's your fault! Why can't you, I don't know, finish your plate or eat something else? You're always tempting me!"  
"Hey, I thought you had determination, but you're as weak as a bear with a honeypot!"  
"I. Am. Not. Weak." I glared at him once more. How dare he?

That evening, I didn't pick in his plate, and he ate a salad. And if I appreciated that he took upon himself not to tempt me that night at the cafe (I _knew_ he was still hungry after the salad, but he didn't order any of his usual greasy or sugary food), I was totally stunned by what he did the next day...


	20. Chapter 20

_**Note:** I know, I know, I didn't update when I said I would... I work 52 hours/week, just so you know what prevented me from updating... Anyway, here's another chapter, and I shall have real week ends at least for 3 weeks so you can expect me to update every week end for these 3 weeks :) And I'm looking for another job with less hours and a boss that's not a dick, I'm considering becoming a pornstar, pays well... just kidding!_**  


* * *

Mello****  
**I had slept very badly that night, my stomach feeling heavy and my... hum... transit being a little disturbed with the change of my eating habits of these last days. I wasn't sick, but it wasn't far from it, with all the grease I wasn't used to absorb that was slowly invading the body I had kept away from it for years. Blurg. Just thinking of food made me feel like I would vomit. Which was probably good since it would prevent me from eating and I would be able to fit in my leather pants comfortably again soon. No way I bought new ones a size bigger, I didn't want to look like a pneumatic.

I finally stood up, unable to close an eye, around 8am, although it was saturday, and I made myself some coffee, thinking it would help my sick stomach, planning to go to the sport complex later.  
As I was slowly sipping from my cup, someone knocked on my door. I grabbed some sweat pants on my way to open it, that quickly landed on the nearby sofa as I recognised Mail through the peephole. I first thought it was the postman or maybe the landlord, but I didn't need to cover myself for him.

Mail didn't agree with that statement and made that strange screetching sound when his eyes met the sight of my naked self, and I thought he was really unaware of the chance he had to see my ass. Many would love to see it, you know...  
Ok, maybe I was a little less attractive with the tiny belly that was starting to grow but... hell, who am I kidding? I was still totally hot, no matter what.

"Can you...hum... get dressed?" Mail mumbled, averting his eyes and finding something very attractive to look at by the window all of a sudden. I chuckled, not ready to obey, and walked nonchalantly to the kitchen to grab my coffee cup.  
"Want some?" I asked him, turning around to look at him still focused on the imaginary attraction.  
His head shot in my direction, his eyes wider than they previously were. A "Huh?" came out of his mouth, which stayed slightly open, and I inwardly laughed as his eyes trailed down on their own accord until they reached my navel and up again, before they set on the one thing Mail didn't want to see, obviously.  
"Coffee. Want some?" I repeated, perfectly aware of how it had sounded to him the first time (which was highly amusing to me, of course). And I'd gladly give it to him. Not the coffee, I mean.  
"Yeah, please..." he sighed, relieved.  
I was a human sexual innuendo for him, and it would probably be a constant battle between me and myself not to be one, because I liked to fuck around like this, but it wouldn't serve me well in my situation, since I needed to comfort Mail in the idea that I wasn't a pervert and that I could be someone nice enough for him to want to hang around with me (and more...).  
Why do people, me included, get so mushy and confused once in love?

I picked up another cup and handed it to him once full. That's when I noticed he wasn't dressed as usual, but wearing sport pants and running shoes. He noticed my surprise and explained, taking the cup from my hands.  
"That's partly my fault if you gained weight, and I probably will benefit of some exercise, so I came to pick you up to go to the sport complex, since you said you'd go today."  
I melted. But didn't show. Exactly what makes me fall for him. This guy can be a dick with girls, but I'm pretty sure that once he gets settled, he'll make someone the happiest person in the world. Me, preferably.

I finished my coffee, cleaned myself quickly in the bathroom and, still naked (and Mail still desperately finding interesting spots to look at on my walls), I gathered some sport clothes in a bag, got dressed, and we left.  
The drive was silent although not uncomfortable, the music loud enough for the inexistent verbal exchange not to seem awkward.

We entered the locker room, and I changed from my jeans and black tee for moulding black shorts and another one of my black tees without entering a booth, in front of a locker.  
"Mihael, do you have a thing with exhibitionism?" Mail asked me, rolling his eyes.  
"There's no one in here." I stated blankly. That was true, we were alone, it wasn't like anyone would see me, and I didn't give a fuck anyway.  
"There's me, in case you haven't noticed." Mail replied, annoyed.  
"Come on, it's not the first time you see me without clothes, and you should use some of the sight while you can, I'm far from being repulsive." I winked at him. I really can't refrain it, can I?  
"And you're also very far from being modest." he turned around and started walking in direction of the running lane, "Plus it's not like I've wanted to see you naked, each time it happened."  
"Are you saying I'm not attractive?" I couldn't stop myself, although I knew I had to. It was just too funny, but I had to be careful not to push him too far.  
"Do you really expect me to reply to _that_?" Mail turned around again to face me, stopping in his tracks. That's when I knew I had reached the limit I shouldn't cross.  
"Sorry. I'm stopping now." I was sincere.  
"'Kay." Mail smiled, and that strange feeling of warmth filled my chest.

**Matt**  
He was just having fun and I knew it, it was part of his personality to act like he could never be serious and like if everything called a sexual joke.  
Actually, I was beginning to like those pseudo conversations where he couldn't help but tease me, and I would look indignated. Yes, "would look", not "would be". Because I wasn't anymore. I knew he was making efforts, and that he probably wouldn't totally erase that trait because it was part of him. But the fact he tried was much more than I had expected at first. And when he stopped by himself for once, I don't know, it was... weird. Like I had some effect on him, and I didn't know what to do with that.  
It wrung my heart in a way I would never have expected, because he was doing his best to be nice to me, because he was in love with me, and I couldn't give him something back, something he wanted from me I mean. I could be his friend, I guess we were on our way to be friends, right? We could hang out together, and have fun, but that was all I could give him, and even if I didn't like him _that_ way, I wasn't extremely happy about his situation.

We began to run along the lane and I could tell he was slowing down his pace to stay at my level. Damn cigarettes, my smoker lungs didn't agree with the way I was demanding air right now, and exercising my body revealed to be much more difficult than I thought it would be. I held on, though, not wanting to look too lame. I was already slower than Mihael, so stopping wasn't an option.  
I concentrated on my inner thoughts to forget the pain that breathing was causing me while we ran side by side, Mihael at my right.

A loud name calling stirred me out of my reverie.  
"Hey fags, move out of the way!" A tall mediterranean looking guy ran past Mihael, slightly pushing him in the process although the lane was large enough for probably ten runners. His shoulder bumped into mine and Mihael stopped for a few seconds, looking at the guy distancing us. He looked at me with a smirk and we resumed running as slowly as we were a few seconds before.

"Why that smirk?" I asked him, intrigued. I'd rather have expected him to beat the guy or something, but Mihael was totally calm, "He calls you a fag and you don't react?"  
"He said _fags, _with an 's'." Mihael was obviously enjoying this considering his smirk turned to a grin.  
I looked at the guy in the distance, then at Mihael again, whose grin seemed to grow wider every second.  
"HEY! I'm not!" I stopped in my tracks.  
"To my dismay..." Mihael replied, still very content with the situation, "Hey, it's no big deal, happens all the time, no need to get so worked up."

I stared at his back as he started running again, before following, quite disturbed.  
Would everyone think I was gay if I hung out with Mihael?  
But it suddenly appeared to me that this question was not important to reply to. Did I have to choose my friends according to what people would think of me in their presence? I've been rejected a lot when younger at kindergarten because no one wanted to befriend the redhead that brought bad luck, so that would be pretty mean-minded to hold Mihael responsible for the stupidity of the italian guy.  
Plus, I realised that Mihael had probably faced such name callings on a day to day basis, and that it was quite egoistical from me to think of my own person when he was coping with unfair discrimination.

Unfair. I was surprised at how stupid I had been myself over the previous weeks. It doesn't take a genius to see that being gay isn't a disease, isn't dirty or whatever I thought it was. I was quite smart myself, and even if I had been sort of traumatized by the gay neighbours we had once, my parents and me, I was feeling really bad at the moment, for letting myself dwell on homophobic thoughts like I had done since I had met Mihael.  
I had been scared of him when actually, he was the one who may have been scared. Ok, it was just an image, Mihael was able to defend himself, but I could relate to anti gay crimes and how traumatizing it could be to be gay and be rejected or even beaten for that. Or worse, killed...  
I had been a real bastard, hadn't I?  
I had deserved every punch he had given me that day. If gays could be beaten for loving other men, then I could as well be beaten for thinking it was wrong.

"Mail? Are you done?" Mihael tapped my shoulder. I hadn't realised that I had stopped in the middle of the lane.  
"I'm sorry Mihael. For acting like a dick, for setting you off, for being so narrow minded. I'm sorry."  
He looked at me puzzled, but his fast as lightning speed mind quickly caught up with my own, processing my train of thoughts and where it came from.  
"Better late than never." And he smiled at me genuinely, and I wasn't able to help my mind thinking that he should smile like that more often. He was sporting smirks more often than that kind of smile.

The italian guy had made a complete circle and was heading our way again. He was clearly provocating us since the lane was large and his direction would obviously make him run into us. Mihael saw that too and his stance changed, imperceptibly, but enough for me to know he wasn't taking the thing as lightly as the first time.  
The guy was close.  
Closer.  
BAM!

It happened so fast that I thought I had imagined things, but the guy laying on his back at Mihael's feet, air knocked out of his lungs both by the shock of Mihael sending him full force to the floor, his left arm hitting across the guy's chest with a loud thud, and by the harsh contact of his back with the ground, proved otherwise. It had been swift, simple and effective. And I was in awe in front of Mihael.  
Hum, not in _that_ way, of course. It was just that he looked so thin, and he was not much taller than me (and I was short, as much as I dislike it). And yet the guy, that was much taller and larger, had just been thrown to the floor like a puppet, with one single arm and move. Pure brutal force. I wish I could do that.  
Call me stupid, but at that moment, I felt less masculine than Mihael. Damn...


	21. Chapter 21

_**Note: **I seem to be able to keep up with the week end update, let's cross fingers and hope it lasts XD (There's no editing, as usual, I'm just too tired to do it)_.

**_Oh, BTW, the site made some weird things with notifications last week end, I didn't get one for the previous chapter, nor for the oneshot I posted on sunday, and many readers sent me private messages to tell me they hadn't received one either, that they knew it was updated only by browsing the site._**  
_**So just in case you didn't get the notifications, make sure you've read the previous chapter before reading this one ^^**_

_And while you're at it, check my oneshot **"Liebestraum"** (see my profile my stories), it's about Matt, Mello and a piano, and I'd like feedback about it since it's quite different from what I usually write. Thanks!_**  


* * *

Mello****  
**I glanced at Mail, quite satisfied with myself. The fucker on the floor was trying to stand up with some difficulties, unable to breathe properly, and after finally being able to get back on his feet, he mumbled something while getting away as fast as possible. It's only when he was out of reach that he shouted at us a very smart and courageous 'bloody fags'.  
The anger I had felt at first was all gone now (it's lucky putting someone back at his place drains all anger from me, because I'd be murderous otherwise). I was really liking what I saw in Mail's eyes. Admiration.  
That's probably the closest thing to a positive feeling toward me that I would get from him, and it was much, seeing him look at me this way, like I was some superior being.  
The ego boost was nice, but it was quickly forgotten once butterflies began to party in my stomach. The mental image of me as a knight on his white horse couldn't prevent the comment that passed my lips:  
"So, princess, now's the time to kiss your brave knight!"  
He looked at me, I think he was still recovering from the shock of what had just happened, then exploded in a laughter that was so clear, so genuine, that I melted. Talk about knights, I was turning into the princess myself now.

"Shower?" Mail said after regaining the ability to talk properly, once he was done laughing. Mmh? Of course I knew it wasn't an invitation, but heh. Can't help it.  
I didn't have time to utter a word, my smirk probably gave me away long before I spoke.  
"No. Not together." he warned me jokingly.  
I sighed: "You know me so well..."  
We headed for the lockers, showered (separately, although I tried to peep into his shower booth, but the doors were too high to see anything and I didn't want to risk a broken leg by climbing on a steam-covered surface), and once we were in his car, I just couldn't stop the nasty feeling of spending the rest of the day at home. Without him I mean.  
I was becoming so dependant on his presence that it was freaky.

Salvation came in the form of a shy offer.  
"Wanna eat something?" I don't know if he was afraid to offer to eat something because of my little weight problem or for another reason, but his voice came out quite whispery.  
I wasn't up for eating out, since except some expensive restaurants, it wasn't that easy to find a cheap place to eat healthy food at, and I wasn't that hungry anyway, since it was only twenty for noon.  
"Stop at the grocery store, I'll buy something to cook." I smiled at him, as he parked in the small parking lot of the tiny shop a few meters further, happy that I could find a reason to keep him around a little bit longer, but he stared at me with a strange look. "I'm not going to poison you, you know..." I chuckled.  
"No, but you could make me swallow some tiger's penis powder or another weird aphrodisiac substance..."  
I cut him by a loud laugh. Was he serious?  
I leant a bit as he undid his seatbelt to leave the car, my hand sliding along his thigh as I growled suggestively in his ear: "Like I'd need that, sweetheart." I blew soflty on his earlobe as I withdrew. Mail swallowed with difficulties, his adam aple making an up and down move, making me want to lick and suck on it. But he didn't push me away, which surprised me. Instead, he stared without a word, so I left the passenger's seat. It was probably time to end this, because I sensed he was somehow shocked by what I just did.

But just as I turned to look in his direction, waiting for him to follow to enter in the grocery store, the Camaro roared and he drove away. Fast. What the fuck?

**Matt**  
No no no no no. No. NO!  
This was all wrong. Bad. Weird. Freaky.  
Mihael confused me. I didn't know anymore when things had to stop, when it was a game, when he was serious, when I should put a stop to the teasing, when I should accept it because it was just a joke. And this. Yes, _this_.  
This feeling in my gut, the shiver when I heard his voice whisper, low as a big feline's one, the hairs of my arms raising when his hot breath teased my earlobe. Raising in protest? I didn't even know.  
Of course I knew. Mihael could try as much as he wanted, I didn't feel _that_ way.  
What I felt though, was pain. It occurred to me while I was driving away, needing to put distance between him and me, because the confusion made me want to be alone. I needed to think.

Hell, did I need the guilt of abandoning him in the parking lot like this as the cherry on top of my bitter cake? Certainly not, and I was dialing his number before I even knew I wanted to call him.  
"Hey." he answered after only one ring.  
"Hey." Very creative conversation. "Look, I'm sorry I left you there... I was just..."  
"Freaking out?" he guessed. Right.  
"Yeah, something like that..." I sighed. At least he wasn't mad. Wait. He wasn't? No yelling, no calling names? I would have expected more nerve from him considering his temper.  
"I probably went too far. Is there a chance you forget what I did and join me for lunch?" he was strangely calm. His voice even seemed to plead. Seemed. Because Mihael wouldn't plead anyone, not even me, I guess.  
But I wanted some time alone. Meeting him again wouldn't help right now, I really had to clear up my thoughts before I saw him again.  
"Give me one hour, I'll meet you at your apartment...oh, are you still in front of the grocery store? Wait, I'll pick you up again in a few minutes and..."  
He cut me with something that reminded me more of his original temper, in a chuckle: "Do you really think I'd have stood there waiting for you? I'm almost done with the groceries, I'll take a taxi home, let's meet in one hours, works fine for me. It will give me time to cook."

**Mello**  
That was exactly what I appreciated in Mail. Forget his little freaking out and come pick me up as soon as he realises he left me there exactly because he freaked out.  
I declined. He didn't need to know I actually had waited in the parking lot. Helpless. Ok, I admit I was hoping he would come back, although I was beginning to know how his mind worked. Freak out. Need to process what happened. Think. Get back to normal. It was somehow reassuring to know he was the collected kind.  
I entered the store and picked some food, paid and left in a cab.  
Once home, I began to process the ingredients for my special and personnal recipe: black german bread, tomato, chicken breast roasted without fat, mozarella, and mustard. I set the sandwiches aside, I would grill them once Mail would be there, and I washed a lettuce then seasoned it.

I considered welcoming him with an apron around my waist (and nothing else, of course), but his perfect timing as he knocked at my door left the project unfinished. Not that he would have appreciated anyway. And it was probably a bad idea considering he freaked out a little earlier.

"I brought some diet coke, I didn't know if you had any drinks..." He slightly raised a hand carrying a pack of metal cans and passed my door.  
"Great, I forgot, actually." Which was true, although I could do with water from the tap. But Mail, from the many times we ate together at the cafeteria or downtown, had shown a real taste for sugary drinks: coke, 7up, Dr Pepper, Fanta, anything that wasn't water, contained high levels of saccharine and eventually bubbles.  
I smiled, thinking of the way we were opposed, from a simple thing like eating habits to our sexuality. And see, we were getting along, that should be a lesson for others, you know what I mean.

Mail deposited the 6-pack on my coffee table and plopped on my couch. I smiled even wider when the thought of him being my boyfriend, coming to see me and have lunch together, then cuddle on the couch, crossed my mind.  
He looked at me and a sudden change occurred in his pupils, but he quickly hid it. For a second, I could swear he looked utterly sad.

**Matt**  
I didn't need much thinking to know where this was leading. I was glad Mihael hadn't thrown a tantrum for me to go pick him up right away, because, even if I felt quite guilty, and had genuinely offered to go get him, I needed to put some order in my head. One hour was enough, since my thoughts were clearly heading for the reason I freaked out: I was starting to really like Mihael, I mean, like a real friend. I could even go as far as to say he was my best friend. We hung out together all the time, I did things for him that I usually didn't, same for him, he was a lot nicer with me and took it up on himself for many things which would have made him explode with anyone else. I didn't see anyone else, hell, I didn't even have a date or at least had sex for weeks! And he didn't see anyone else but me, for what I knew.

We had this weird relationship where we were best friends and him expecting more when me, I couldn't give him more. That's where my mind was going.

How long could this last?  
How was he supposed to move on, get over the fact that I would never give him what he wanted from me, find someone else that would actually care for him _this_ way, and, overall, be happy?  
How was I supposed to built a social life, have girls, sex, everything a guy needs, when I was afraid to hurt him if I did it under his nose?

Of course I liked spending time with him. We had a lot of fun, he was smart, I never got tired of talking with him, he had a sense of humour I had come to appreciate, and even with our contradictory personalities, with our very different tastes in everything, we never grew bored with each other's presence.  
It would be difficult, and painful too, but...

My decision was made. I'd tell him I would not meet him again, because this had to end. There was no hope for him that I'd be his someday, I was straight, and he couldn't change that. Fuck, even with all my will, I couldn't change that (the thought crossed my mind, because hurting him hurt me too, and for a moment, I really wondered if I could do it, for him. If I could at least try to be gay, maybe... No, it was stupid, the single thought sends shudders to my spine. I'm straight and there's no point fighting it. Like I would ask him to become hetero and forget me...)

I needed some space, I needed some sex. Hetero sex. Girls. It was more than two weeks, maybe three, that I hadn't seen a pussy. Porn movies and jerking off don't count.  
Maybe he would meet a gay guy in the meanwhile, and realise it was just a crush, concerning me, and I would date girls, and he would date the guy, or as many guys as he wants, whatever, and everything would go back to normal, and we'd be friends again, minus the penis-shaped Damocles sword above my head.  
Yeah, we'll meet again, later, when everything is solved...

That's what I was telling myself as I sat on his couch, and he smiled so genuinely at me, tenderly, even. What if he never got over me? I wasn't making a proud statement there, I was really wondering what would happen if things never got solved. Would we get separate ways forever? Would it make it impossible for us to hang out together again someday?

It made me extremely sad. I wanted his friendship, really really wanted it. I felt different when I was with him, like, more energetic, more aware of little things, more... I don't know. Like I had more life in me. But being egoistic wouldn't help, I had to think of him first. I could always get girls out of his sight if we kept on being friends, but he would never get me out of his mind.

But how would I tell him?  
We ate, chatting about the movie that was on TV, a really bad one, but my heart wasn't in the conversation, and Mihael could feel it, I knew it by the way he kept glancing at me with worry in his eyes.

It was him who broke the lull in the conversation after a while.  
"Mail, spit it out. You freaked out, you asked for time before you came here, and you've been weird since you passed the door, so spit it out already, you're making me nervous." He was, obviously, and I couldn't go back.

"Well... there's no chance that you stop... well... feeling what you feel for me, right?"  
"I'm afraid not..." he could see where I was going, and his look got darker, and I hated it. I was already hurting him, and it was probably better to do this quick and neat.  
"I'm quite uneasy at the thought of dating girls because of those feelings you have, and... well...I don't want to spend my time avoiding to do what I wanna do because of you, I can't live my life according to you..." There, if I'm a jerk that cuts communication in the name of dating girls, he could be mad at me and it would be easier?  
"Mail, playing the egoistic part won't work, I'm not gonna hate you for choosing girls over me, I know better than falling in your little trap, I know you're not doing it for yourself but for me, and it only makes me love you more. But I understand what you're trying to do, and if it makes you feel that bad, I'll accept your decision, whatever it is." Mihael cut the grass under my feet. He knew me even better than I knew myself, and now I was feeling even worse, because he loved me more, which wasn't the expected result of this conversation.

But most of all, I was about to shatter a friendship I didn't want to break. I was about to get rid of the single person I really liked besides my family.  
And I was about to break Mihael's heart, not realising that he hadn't come to the same conclusion as I had. Where he was thinking that I would just start dating girls again and he would accept it, I pronounced my decision to stop meeting him. Ever.

He stood up, so did I, not really knowing what else I should do. He grabbed my jacket, handed it to me and pushed me gently to the door. Once I was on the doorstep, he whispered a goodbye, and softly closed the door.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Note: **Yes, I'm alive! Trying to get a hold on my life, starting with this. I need to write. That's my life. Be it fanfiction or original fiction. I was close to hitting my head in the walls of frustration, with work taking over me, but I finally made it here again ^^_**  
**_I'm sorry for letting you down for so long, it was against my will. I'll probably be able to cram a chapter a week like I used to, the big things at work are done now, fortunately._

_Quick hello to all my beloved readers, and all the ones that sent me private messages, that I'll reply to today, eventually, if I have some more time. I don't forget you! I'm sorry I didn't reply to all the reviews, but they are much appreciated, just too numerous to reply to!_

_So, let's get Matt and Mello moving on with their problems XD_**  
**

* * *

**Mello****  
**I've just been dumped by a guy I wasn't even dating to begin with. How unfair-stupid-freaky is that?  
Wait. No. God...  
I just lost my best friend.

I walked a few steps and let myself fall on a kitchen chair, my head hitting the table with a thud, my arms encircling it to block the light around my eyes.  
I was totally drained all of a sudden, like all energy had left me. I could even feel pins and needles in my legs as if all the blood had gone. Like a total heartbreak. It _was _a total heartbreak.

It was one thing to know that Mail didn't share my feelings and that I didn't stand a chance, but it was a greater deal not to be his friend anymore, not to see him, hang out with him and have these long nice talks we had.  
That was all I had, but at least I had it.

I didn't want to cry. That would be lame. I breathed deeply for a long moment, stood up, made myself a very strong coffee, and drank it, standing in front of my window, looking at the parking lot below.  
I wasn't hoping he would come back, I wasn't starting at each red car I saw in the distance, and I wasn't wiping tears from my eyes. No, I didn't want to cry.

Suddenly I couldn't stand the four walls around me anymore. I grabbed my wallet and keys and left the apartment, running down the stairs, unable to wait for the elevator. I probably couldn't even bear to be in the tiny space.

I walked for hours, lost in my thoughts. Not that they were numerous. Had I fucked up? No. It wasn't my fault. Could it be solved? No. I knew Mail enough to know such a decision would be definitive. Was Mail at fault then? Sure he was! I had never asked anything from him, just taken what he gave me, as few as it was, sentimentally speaking. Of course, as a friend, he brought me much, but that wasn't the point right now. Or was it?  
God... how could I solve this? Before it drove me crazy, preferably.  
Mail... the power you have on me, I should be the one freaking out, actually...

There was only one way to go about it.

**Matt**  
The way he whispered goodbye... I almost changed my mind.  
This single word poured out so much pain that guilt washed over me.  
But it wasn't the time to falter. It was for his own good, and he would thank me later. Yeah...

So I put my jacket on and left, the stairs seeming twice as numerous as they were in reality. The exit and rush of fresh air in my face was much welcome since I felt like I was choking. And it wasn't because of my smoking habits this time.  
I've just given up on the best thing that had happened to me lately, and now I didn't know what to do.  
That when I realised how much I had hung out with Mihael these last weeks. Actually, we spent all our time together. Weird that I noticed this only now. It was so natural that I hadn't paid attention.  
So what now?

I lit a cigarette and instinctively rose my eyes to look at his window, but he wasn't there, of course. Of course...  
I wasn't hoping to see him, actually, I knew that if I saw him, I would turn around and climb those stairs three by three (or at least by as much as my bad physical condition would let me) and tell him I didn't mean to hurt him and I'd rather hurt by self explosion due to an overload of sexual frustration than to ever do that to him again.  
I stared but since fate had decided I would not change my mind, I got into my car and left.

Once home, I just didn't know what to do with myself. My parents were out, so no one needed some kind of help, and no game or internet stuff appealed to me. I let the music blare from the loudspeakers and let myself fall my back on my bed. The ceiling was not much more appealing, but I didn't have the will to move. Everything was boring, everything was too much effort, so I just stayed there for I don't know how long.  
Probably a long time since it was dark when I came back to reality and my mother called me for dinner.

I porned myself to sleep that night, unable to find sleep each time I went to bed. My left arm muscles hurt, after a while, but I couldn't even come. Not even when those enormous boobs swayed on the screen, not even with the display of pussies the movie was showing, not even after the anal sex part, my usual favorite part.  
Mihael was a believer. Did God plan to punish me for hurting one of his worshipers by inability to ever come again?

On sunday, I drove back to the glaucous bar I once went. I know it was stupid, but I had condoms with me this time.  
I wanted sex, but I didn't want to risk a student to mock me if I was unable to... well, raise it up.

I could raise it up, when the two bisexual girls led me in the storage room we had used the first time, the way one sucked me, and the other slobbered my tits. It was weird because no one had ever touched me like this.  
But the weirdest was to come.  
I was thrusting into the brunette for long minutes now, and I knew I would be unable to come. I could feel it, just like the night before. I was young, full of hormones, I should have been able to come twelve times a day at my age, but no. Right now I couldn't.  
So without even asking (I was pretty sure those girls were not the kind to refuse any sexual practice), I plunged my dick in the brunette's asshole. She didn't even whimp. The looseness of her orifice told me she was used to that kind of treatment, so I went on, until she was moaning out loud her pleasure.  
I was coming close to orgasm, but still couldn't reach it.  
The other girl may have noticed, as she pushed her girlfriend away from between her legs, and placed herself head between my own legs. First she licked my balls, but soon she probed my own orifice and I started to protest.  
"Easy, honey, that's not gonna hurt, and you're gonna like it, I promise." She chuckled at my reaction.  
I was really uneasy but something in this girl prevented me from voicing my protest further. I suspected guns were hidden somewhere or something, I don't know, the place (and the girls as well) were glaucous enough for that.

I clenched my teeth, trying to concentrate on what I was doing, focusing on my dick coming in and out of the pink ring. It was the first time I experienced sodomy, and it was something I've always wanted to do, so it was a great turn on, though not enough to make me reach climax. Damn, I felt so frustrated! My balls were self consuming and would eventually fall, dried out, soon, at that rate.  
I was sure it was that finger probing me that prevented my completion, it was just too strange and unatural to me.  
Until it hit a certain spot.  
I cried out loud when after a few strokes of this finger inside of my ass, I finally came. Violently.

I was almost unable to stand up, my legs buckling without my consent after such a long session, and such a rough climax. All the muscles in my pelvic area hurt like hell, and even if I wasn't sure it was a good idea, I accepted the invitation to take a stool at the bar and have a drink.  
My eyes didn't leave the brunette though, during all the time she prepared my beer, so she wouldn't put something funny in my glass.

I left the bar and sat for a while in my car before driving. I was feeling dirty. But at least this time I had protected myself. I had made blood tests recently, to clear any doubt I had had after fucking the two girls unprotected the first time, and fortunately they were negative to AIDS and any STD, but I had been so stupid for taking such a risk that I could have slapped myself for hours. Lucky enough, no one would ever learn about those escapades, so I didn't dwell too much on it and drove back home.

Monday morning finally arrived. I was dreading it because university meant to eventually cross Mihael's way, but in a certain way, I wanted to see him. I don't know, just to see how he was taking it. Maybe he had already gotten over it and it wouldn't be as bad as I imagined...

As I was waiting at a red light, on my way to the campus, a loud engine sound stirred me out of my reverie.  
I instinctively turned my head to look at the motorbike at my left. Mmh, yummy.  
Girls on motorbikes are sexy, and the long legs of this one were sexy as well. Long, leather clad le... GAH!  
The "girl"'s head turned toward me and glanced from "her" higher position. There was no mistaking those icy eyes, even with the helmet.  
At that very moment, I couldn't help it. If Mihael knew I had drooled over his legs, and thought he was a chick... I imagined his reaction and it was impossible not to laugh.  
But I was quickly reminded of the situation when his steel eyes set the coldest look on me, then focused back on the road before riding away as the light turned green.

**Mello**  
He laughed at me.  
I had spent the whole sunday trying to convince myself that Mail was a jerk, not worth my feelings, trying to get rid of what I felt for him, and I could almost believe my own lies now that he had mocked me the way he did. Bastard. What was there to laugh at? I felt pretty sexy on that motorbike, hot as hell, even.

I had bought it on a tantrum, when after walking for so long on saturday, the only thing around was that motorcycle dealer and a supermarket. Overload of chocolate or new (and loud) toy, I chose both. Once all the papers were signed and the dealer convinced that I would get my license (a few supplementary bills helped convince him), I could leave with my baby. Instand love with the shiny black Honda.

You're supposed to already have a temporary authorisation to buy such an engine, then you have to get your permanent license, so I would have to go get that temporary thing the next day, because right now I was riding illegally. I charged the truck with at least twenty five bars of dark chocolate and left all guilt behind as the motor roared in my ears.

Well, I had spent the rest of the week end reading ads for jobs to pay for the big hole this purchase would make in my bank account, even with all the money my parents were giving me on a monthly basis (I had chosen the most expensive one, I have high standards, it had to suit me). I didn't want to ask them for extra money, after all, such a purchase wasn't necessary and had been done on the spur of the moment, they didn't have to pay for that. I had some pride.  
So I would be a waiter in a club in town every wednesday, friday and saturday nights from now on. It had just opened, the owner was the same as the cafe we used to hang our with Mail, the guy seemed to want to expend to various activities, the next one being a gaming center, from what he told me on the phone.  
I had an appointment with him on tuesday afternoon, but it was a formality since I had experience (I had worked as a waiter when I was 16, in a Berlin bar, when after a long fight with my parents I had decided I didn't need their money and they had tested me) and he had difficulties to hire someone due to the long shift, so it was more than likely I woud get the job.

I parked my baby in the parking lot of the campus and _of course_, Mail had to park very close at the same time.  
Why did he seem like he was following me when he was the one to put an end to our friendship?  
Unfortunately, and even if he had laughed at me a little earlier, there was no way my anger lingered when his deep blue eyes settled on me, as he exited his car.  
He seemed as sad as me, and although it comforted me, it also hurt like a bitch to see him like this.

I smiled weakly, I didn't even know if I should say hello or not. I just stood there, against my motorbike, confused.  
For an instant, he looked like he would make a step in my direction, he hesitated, then walked away.

I suddenly reverted back to what I was weeks ago, shielding myself for my own sake. My inner turmoil couldn't been seen, my pride was taking over, and as I strode into the amphitheatre confidently, I was Mello again.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Note: **I don't know why, but many of you thought that TSFMS was complete with the last chapter. I never stated so, nor did I mark it as complete, so it was a mystery to me!_  
_So, no, it's not finished, and there are still several chapters to come._  
_I thought I could go back to regular updates but work has been hell again, and then I left for London for one week of holidays.  
_

_And because I thought that maybe you'd like some more regular news about future updates, and also because FF seems to have a problem with sending updates mails to my subscribers, **I'm now on Twitter**!_  
_You can find me there under **xcloudbustingx**_

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**Mello**  
I could see Mail, a few rows down in the amphitheatre.  
I looked at the empty seat next to me, the place that had become his usual place since we began to sit side by side during lessons, and a sigh escaped me. You're supposed to try to remember happy moments even when they're over, because after all, they made you happy once and it's better than nothing at all, but it's just wisdom out of a granny's mouth, the sad reality won't let it apply. The present hurt is always stronger than past happiness.

Something ticked my curiosity all of a sudden. Mail wasn't sat as usual, with his legs stretched and his back against the seat, looking like he wasn't listening to the teacher. Oh, he didn't seem to pay any more attention than usual, to the eye of a lambda person, but I could at least take pride in the fact that _I_ knew better. He was the auditive kind, he registered every word the teacher said, and I could make the difference between his indifference tainted focus and the way he was totally absent minded right now.  
But it wasn't that. He was hunched over the table, his chin resting on his hand, his elbow on the desk, staring at an inexistant something on the blackboard. The position was unusual, and I had never seen him that curled up on himself.  
Whether he sat or walked, or even drove, his body always showed how open and cool he was (his past homophobia set aside). He was an outgoing person, and looked like he was. But what he looked like right now had nothing to do with what he was. Except if he was depressed...

My stomach twisted. What were we doing to ourselves and each other right now?  
I suddenly stood up, not giving a fuck that the lesson had begun, and closed the distance between Mail and me.  
"I'd appreciate that you sit down and don't disturb the whole amphitheatre, young lady." the old guy said in the microphone, interrupting his speech about ancient Roman wars as I was walking down the rows, staring at me with indignation.  
My eyes automatically turned to Mail. Bingo. He was trying to muffle his laughter, head burried in his arm on the desk. So predictable...  
The comment of the teacher, mistaking me for a chick, didn't make me laugh, but Mail laughing eased the anger. And I guess that even with his glasses, the old fart was blind as a mole, because my balls were so damn moulded in my leather pants that no one with a good sight would ever mistake me for a girl.

**Matt**  
I didn't have time to protest, Mihael sat beside me, glaring at me until I could stop laughing.  
For a moment, it felt like things were like before, and it felt good. It even felt right. But it wasn't. No, it wasn't right to entertain his hopes.  
Fuck, it wasn't, most of all, right to lie to myself. I knew he had accepted there was no hope, but it was easier to take this as a reason for pushing him away. Because breaking a friendship on the sole idea that it may not serve him right in his future love life was... Stop. I had turned this over and over again in my mind, first trying to find reasons to go back to him and telling myself he was big enough to do things by himself, then reverting to what I had decided in the first place. It was for his own good damnit!

"Finished mocking me or is it the main activity of the day?" he suddenly spat. I could see a real hidden anger in his eyes, for some unknown reason.  
"Sorry, I'm not mocking you, it's just that when I saw you this morning on your bike, at the redlight, I found you sexy because I thought you were a chick. And now this... I was so telling myself that you'd have exulted to know that for once I thought you were hot!" It was true, I hadn't been mocking him, it was the total opposite actually, it was funny to think that he would have mocked _me _for drooling over him.

He looked at me puzzled, then flashed his oh-so-much-like-him smirk. "I knew I was hot on that bike." And he got back to the lesson and his notes like if nothing happened.  
I stayed silent during the rest of the morning, barely caring for Roman wars, with Mihael's screeching pen being one of the rare sounds with the teacher's voice.

When the bell rang noon, I stood up and quickly walked away as Mihael gathered his stuff.  
He called me as he was still crossing the amphitheatre and I was at the door. I turned around, I needed to tell him things hadn't changed, that we shouldn't hang out together again, that I was doing this for him.  
Oh, his look... I didn't have to say anything, he knew what I was thinking. And he didn't need to utter a word either, I understood the hope he had that we could go back to normal, that I just shattered, and how hurt he was.  
For a second, I felt like hugging him. Wait, WTF?  
I'd say that was gay, but that would be insulting, so I'd only say it was weird to get that kind of vibe. Well, guys hug sometimes, right? A manly bear hug, of course...

He slowly walked to me, as I was still standing next to the exit, hesitating like if each step he took would make me runaway like a frightened deer.  
I knew I should be leaving, but I couldn't. His eyes got me glued to the ground.  
As he came close, I shook my head, looking away from his sad expression. It was so unnatural for him to show any feeling that I knew the hurt was deep, if he didn't control how his whole features expressed it.  
"Mihael..." I began.  
"Please, don't serve me anymore of your bullshit Mail, I can take care of myself, you don't have to protect me. If anything, it makes me want to show you who's the man in this relationship."  
There, take a serious situation and turn it to a joke. That's Mihael. Even hurt, he keeps his humour. Some kind of self defense, I guess.  
I chuckled. But it couldn't be like this.  
"Mihael..." I tried again, "Really, what would you feel if you saw me with a chick... worse, what if we hung out together and I brought a date with me? You'd feel bad, don't you? And how could your feelings for me disappear if we're always together?"  
He rolled his eyes. "Listen, running away from me will only make me chase you more. We're friends, and you're not gay, I've processed that, you know. Don't insult me by thinking I'd hurt myself more than I can take it. What hurts me the most is not being with my best friend, ok?"  
Best friend? I smiled. This simple statement coming out of his mouth made me happier than I had ever been before.  
Our relationship was so weird that I had often wondered if he considered me as a real friend, so being considered his best friend was erasing many doubts and setting a new light on things.

**Mello**  
I just called him my best friend, when I didn't even know if he considered me as a true friend at all. But when he flashed his big genuine smile, it didn't only melt me as usual, it also settled our relationship to something strong and important, and it was now known by both of us as a sure thing.

The fuzzy feeling didn't last long though.  
"And so as your best friend, I have to do it, Mihael. How could you get a date with a guy you may like if I'm always around you? People may even think we're together and no guy interested in you would come near!" Mail tried to find some more excuses, but there was no chance I bought them.  
"So is it the real matter? That people think you're gay too?" I said, more spiteful than I meant it, because I knew he was only trying to find an escape route.  
"You know I'm way past caring about that Mihael. It's not forever, come on, let's just try to calm things down until you get over me, it can't be that long!"  
I was tired of this shit. For once, I knew I wouldn't win this battle, Mail was as hard headed as me, which was saying something, and although I knew I would never get over him, for the simple reason that I knew it was much more than a crush, I could always pretend I had in a few days or weeks and we could go back to normal.  
I retaliated on a bored "ok" and walked passed him. Better start now for it to end soon.

I suspected him to park in another lot the next days because I didn't see him except from far away, as he arrived late at every lesson and sat at the farthest seat away from me each time. But he never failed to greet me with a faint smile every morning, before ignoring me the rest of the time.

On wednesday evening, I took my first shift at the disco-bar where I had been hired. It was overall nice though really tiring to work from 7pm to 5am non stop. The music was not always to my tastes, a lot of dance music, techno, but a good part was rock music, which eased my annoyed ears. I quickly felt at ease behind my counter, and my experience made it not so difficult to serve the various drinks I was asked for all night long.  
What was funny was that several gays came to the club and most of them tried to catch my attention. One could have been a nice fuck, he was cute enough, but I had other things in mind...

On friday afternoon, the owner of the club called me to ask me to dress a little fancier because I was dressed too casually on wednesday. He didn't exactly say it, but the way he stuttered, not daring to say it, he meant_ sexier_. I had come in black jeans and black tee shirt the first night, not knowing if my leather would fit in the place, but I went for it on friday night, I felt better in leather anyway (not that I wasn't sexy in jeans, mind you).

I understood the point of his call a few minutes after I took my shift behind the bar.  
The gay guys from wednesday were all there, and more and more kept on coming, all of them doing a once over to me in an appreciative way.  
The owner of the club was using me to bring more customers. Flattering. But quite whoring too. Well, at least, he wasn't homophobic.

I chatted with some of these guys while I was working, it made time pass more quickly. Some were quite nice, but some were real pigs, doing nasty comments about how they'd screw me in the toilets and stuff. Usually, a glare was enough to cut them straight.  
But one followed me in said toilets as I had to take a piss, I had to make him understand with my fists that I wasn't interested. The one way fight (like he would have had a chance to touch me...) had at least the merit to warn anyone present that I wasn't taking shit from anyone.  
But it resulted in even more attempts to seduce me, mostly among people that were typical bottoms. And from girls as well (insert facepalm here).  
I briefly wondered if the club was meant to become a gay club, at that moment.

Of course, OF COURSE, Mail had to come to the club on saturday evening. With a date.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Note:** This chapter is 100% Matt POV. It doesn't mean next one will be all Mello POV, I don't know yet. But I think you're gonna like the events in this one!_**  
**_On another note, I'll be over with my shitty job in 5 weeks more or less (I quit!), and it means time for updates! Aha, just when everyone will be on holidays and is unable to read..._  
_Anyway, expect updates more often from now on._**  
**

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**Matt**  
As soon as I entered the club with... what was her name? Ah, I couldn't even remember if she had told me, at that point. I had come here alone with the idea of picking up a girl I would find pretty, which wouldn't have been difficult as my eyes roamed around me, there was a lot of possible hits here. But this girl in the parking lot of the club strode along my car as I exited from the passenger's seat and eyed me and my Camaro in a way that only meant one thing. _Nice car, cute guy, I'm yours_. I had seen it before, that was an easy date, those girls usually weren't asking for more than a night, and that was fine with me. No commitment.

So, as soon as I entered the club with the girl, my heart skipped a beat. I never expected Mihael to be here, and as a barman, no less.  
My first reaction was to be happy. I had avoided him these last days and I had to admit that I missed him. Very often I had told myself _'if I could tell that to Mihael'_... and had realised that sharing laughters and stuff with him would probably never happen again. But happiness quickly left place to something along the lines of guilt because of my arm encircling my date's shoulders, and sadness because it was how things were supposed to be, and as much as I knew it would hurt him, I had to live my life and he had to get over what he would see tonight. I told myself for the umpteenth time that it was for his own good, but a (big) part of me would have gladly left the girl where she stood to take a stool at the bar and chat with him.

He obviously saw me but despite the impression I had that he was about to smile to me, he looked away and resumed serving drinks to the numerous guys sat at the counter.  
I briefly wondered all of a sudden if it was a gay club, when I realised that most of the customers sat facing him were eyeing him like he was a piece of meat, and actually trying to seduce him.  
I tried to catch a glimpse of Mihael's face, wanting to know if he liked it, at least, but my date pulled on my arm.  
"Come on, let's dance, I love this song!" she urged me to the dance floor. Me, dance? No fucking way.

I rested my back against a pole close to the dance floor as the little blonde moved around me. At some point, some other guys turned around her, and she didn't even hesitate to grind against them, before my eyes. Not that I really cared, she looked slutty enough to be that kind of girl, and if it wasn't her, then it would be one of the many chicks present here, I had the choice.  
Craving for a smoke, I left my spot and reached for the entrance, catching sight of Mihael when I walked past the bar on my way out. He was still not looking at me.

For some reason, I didn't really want to go back inside. Mihael obviously didn't care about me. I didn't really want to spend the night with the dirty blonde. And the music sucked.  
Which, putting all of this together, was annoying. If Mihael didn't care, then I could as well grope a girl under his nose, he wouldn't mind, obviously. So why did I feel no will to spend time with a girl that asked for it?  
I didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts since a familiar sound came to my ears from the door. Creaking leather.  
I looked in the sound's direction and Mihael's face showed surprise at my sight. Well, he wasn't there on purpose, that was for sure. Fuck.

"I didn't know you were working here." I said blankly. Nice. Of course I didn't know, since we hadn't talked to each other for days. By my fault.  
"Mmh." was all he replied. He didn't came closer than the three meters away where he stood, he was only there for some fresh air I guess. Or not.  
A guy came from the inside.  
"Hey." Mihael addressed him with a... I don't know if it was a real smile, but at least the corners of his mouth looked like it.  
"Said I wouldn't be long." the other guy replied, "It's impossible to talk with all the music." He gestured toward the club.  
"Yeah." Mihael wasn't really talkative, it seemed.  
Probably because he wasn't there to talk. He grabbed the guy by his neck and kissed him. French kissed him.  
My heart jumped in my chest. It was really weird to see him engaged in such a thing, right under my nose.

The other guy seemed to appreciate, and began groping Mihael's ass. That was a bit more than I could take, so I went back inside. I took a piss and decided I would try to find my date that was probably somewhere around the dance floor, and if I couldn't get her, to get another one. But as I walked along the bar, Mihael was already back at his task, and the guy he was kissing seconds ago was nowhere in sight.  
I changed my mind and took a stool at the counter, taking my chance as someone freed a place.  
"What do you drink?" Mihael asked me, treating me like any customer.  
"Didn't work." I stated loudly with a smile.  
"We don't have this." He didn't smile back and made it obvious he was here only to take my order.  
"Beer." I replied. At that moment, I really felt bad. Was everything really over? Were we still friends or was something broken? Maybe now that he had a boyfriend, he didn't give a fuck about me anymore? Hell, who was I kidding? This guy was not his boyfriend, and the display of fake interest that Mihael had given him in front of me had nothing but convinced me. That wouldn't work, although it was a nice try. But it was a bit too easy.

Maybe I was wrong, after all, as I saw the guy come back and take the stool beside me, shaking a little box in his hand while smirking to Mihael. Condoms.  
"Have them." he mouthed, and Mihael nodded.  
Images I didn't even want to begin to deal with came to my mind. They could fuck as much as they wanted, but I didn't need to get details, damnit!  
Mihael placed a glass of beer in front of me, took the bill I handed out to him, gave me my change back, and left for the bathroom, followed by the guy and his condoms. Ooookaaaay... Don't need a picture.

In the meanwhile, Dirty Blonde found me and threw her arm around my shoulders, standing against me. I didn't leave my stool, unable to leave until Mihael was back, for some reason.  
Actually, I was quite glad that she came to me, because I was starting to be the center of interest of Mihael's court. Do I look gay?  
It took a while and a few beers before he came back, actually, the other barman behind the counter taking a break as soon as Mihael showed up again. There were a lot of people here tonight, after all, I bet this would be the new place to be for some time.

The chick was slobbering my neck and I didn't even think of taking advantage of it and take her for a ride in my car (pun intended). It did nothing to me, unless you count annoyance.  
I put that on the account of all that had happened lately, it was taking my mind over and sex stuff was not my main interest, or I guessed so. It's not that I didn't want sex, but right now I only wanted things to get back to normal with Mihael. Yes, I missed his friendship, but since he had been chasing me, I didn't really realise he was gone, until he made it clear to me.

So what now? Take back what I said? Yeah, of course... I'd tell him not to care for what I said and that we would be friends again, after pushing him away so many times? I've wanted this... and now I had it.  
And he obviously looked like he was getting over me very well, because he was now chatting and laughing with the brown haired guy he (as I guessed) had fucked in the bathroom a little earlier.  
Even me, as a straight guy, could tell his boyfriend was handsome. He made me think of Zac Effron without the '_I'm the ideal son-in-law_' stupid smile. And without the stupid haircut.

What bugged me was that if Mihael had gotten over me, then why couldn't we be friends again? Why was he so obviously ignoring me?  
Maybe he was punishing me for taking a decision he didn't want to cope with in the beginning? Maybe he didn't give a fuck about me anymore, not even as a friend, meaning he only was my friend by interest?

But no matter what I thought about, nothing suited what I knew from him. It would made him a total bastard, and as much of a hard head he could be, he wasn't like this.  
"Go dance, I'm watching you babe." I said in the ear of the blonde, and she swayed on her stilettos to the dance floor, suggestively winking at me. Like hell I would watch her, I just wanted her away.  
Once she was far enough, I left my stool, turned around the counter, grabbed Mihael's wrist and pulled him to the bathroom.

What did I expect? Of course he would resist. He freed his wrist from my grip and glared at me without a word. I couldn't even decipher his look. I would have been able to say if he was angry, or just annoyed, amused or serious.  
"What are you trying to do?" a voice rose behind me. I turned around. The brown haired guy. Mihael's boyfriend. "I thought I had made it obvious that Mihael's my property, so hands off."  
Call it complicity, but at that precise moment I knew the guy had just lost Mihael. I looked at the one I hoped was still my best friend, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of someone daring to claim him as his 'property', which was some kind of suicide, really. I wasn't wrong. Mihael smiled back at me in that mischievous way that only meant trouble. But I didn't expect trouble to come in that way.  
"Well well..." Mihael began, looking at Zac Effron, "Seemed to me I was the one who owned your ass a little time ago." He smirked at me, knowing perfectly well the mental image he was giving me, and knowing even more that I didn't want to picture this. "I'll forgive you this time, but never, ever say you own me." He glared so hard at the guy while approaching him that I saw Zac Effron's adam apple make a yoyo as he swallowed with difficulty.  
I was totally wrong. Mihael grabbed his buttcheeks while pressing against him and kissed him well... wetly.  
Maybe I was wrong all the way, from the way I had percieved Mihael to what was happening now. Maybe it all had been a lie and Mihael really didn't want to have anything to do with me, and maybe I was heartbroken right now...

I saw red. He had never been my friend, he had played with me all along, and it hurt me, because it was more than losing a friend, I felt cheated.  
At the same time, Blondie was coming my way, and I had no will to deal with her. Alcohol added to the pain made me lose any inhibition I had, my face was heated and I didn't want to start to cry here, in the middle of a crowd that would mock me, along with Mihael. And the way Mihael kissed him, there was no way he liked this guy. As few as I had liked it, I knew how Mihael kissed when he was in love.  
I was too far gone to realise that I had the answer to all of my questions in that memory, and I wanted to hurt him, break him.

I pushed the guy away from Mihael, and began to punch him, but I was quickly stopped by Mihael, not that I wanted to keep on hitting Zac Effron. My alcohol tainted mind had another plan next.  
Mihael let my arms go as soon as he sensed I was cooling down and I didn't let him any time to protest, I grabbed his face in my palms and I deposited a butterfly kiss on his lips. Then I started to cry.


	25. Chapter 25

**_Note: _**_As I already said somewhere on my profile or an A/N, I quit my job, so I will have much more free time (until I get another job but I won't accept something as fucked up and time-eating than before so updates shouldn't be a problem), but I ended it sooner than planned, I took all my remaining days off at once so i don't have to work until the homologation of my contract ending, on june 24th. Otherwise I'd probably have killed my boss or something XD_

_It took me longer than expected to update anyway (I wanted to one week ago, but I had a lot of stuff going on due to lacking time before.)_  
_So I make up for it with a long chapter, and so you get 1000+ words than usual._  
_Something tells me you're gonna like this chapter XD_

_Oh, and as usual, a BIG BIG THANK YOU to all my readers and reviewers, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of you personally, but I do appreciate every single word you leave me ^^_**  
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**Mello**  
It took me several seconds to try to put my brain back in motion after _that_. A kiss from Mail. Not a kiss I'd have stolen, but _from_ him. On _his_ own free will. Well, it was more a caress of lips than a real kiss, but it was a contact he had initiated by himself, and it was enough to send me very, very high up the stars and beyond. Somewhere I wanted to stay forever. But my mind decided otherwise when something ticked my sense of analysis.  
What the hell? What was that kiss about? I mean, Mail wasn't gay, and wouldn't turn gay like that, it only happens in my dreams...  
And although the contact was sincere, there was also something forced into it.  
I looked at Mail, who was now sobbing in front of me, head bowed and shoulders tensed like he was carrying the whole world's misery on them. I hesitated about what I should do, since I was confused like hell. I was still high, but coming back to reality, and it was making it impossible for me to understand what was going on. I wanted to ask him questions, but I didn't know where to begin. Question the kiss? The motivation behind it? Kiss him too? Hug him? Run away?

"C'mon Mello, your shift's done for several minutes now, let's move from here, we've better things to do than nurse that kid." my tonight's fuck buddy complained, pushing Mail slightly as he reached for my arm and began to pull me off the counterside. Mail grabbed the counter with a hand not to lose his balance and I caught him with an arm by the waist instinctively. His head shot up and all that came out of my mouth at that moment was: "I'm not going anywhere with you, I'm staying with him." The guy sighed and shrugged, mumbling something like I could fuck off if I liked to play the babysitter, which would have meant a beating in another time and place, but I was preoccupied enough not to care right now.

I stared hard into those puppy eyes. I hated that I couldn't resist them, and even if I could, this time it would have been impossible. Mail was half drunk, I could tell it by his pupils and the way he relied on me heavily, but still, there was something desperate in his eyes, and...  
And he tried to assure his stance not to be in too much physical contact with me when he realised he was practically snuggling into me. Bastard.

I grabbed his arm, not caring that he was drunk anymore, he could fall, for what I cared, I would drag his body on the floor if I had to. I pulled him to the bathroom, locked us in a booth and slammed him against the tiled wall. He whimpered but I didn't give a shit. I attacked his lips with mines, biting, licking, plunging my tongue inside of his mouth to feel his own, my hands quickly unfastening his belt and jeans buttons. He tried to fight me but the alcohol he had downed was on my side and I had no difficulty turning him around so he was facing the wall. I pulled on his pants and boxers to free his ass while maintaining him in place, and licked my fingers before probing his anus. He cried out but I went on, kissing his nape and breathing the scent of his shampoo in. At that point, he was squirming like mad but I had an iron grip on him, and he wasn't in condition or position to win this against me. I only stopped probing his ass with my fingers to replace them with my cock. I lightly pressed against his entrance.

"No... please Mihael, no...". He whispered. It was heartbreaking. I hadn't meant to go this far, I really just wanted to give him a lesson. And I had to stop now. Because this time, it really would be rape.

But I was angry, oh so angry. I pushed him away roughly and he almost knocked himself out on the door. He grabbed the knob to help himself to stand up but I pulled him back up violently and sent his back to hit the wall before grabbing his face with a hand, forcing him to look at me as my fingers imprinted themselves in his flesh.  
"You're lucky I don't wanna be a criminal, 'cause otherwise you'd have gotten what you asked for." I spat, my face mere millimeters away from him. I was searching in his features for something that would free all the refrained violence I had in me right now, something to legitimate the hits and the kicks and everything I wanted to give him at the moment, but I couldn't get it because he was drunk and crying and sobbing, and overall he was helpless and I knew it, nothing, not even the worst, would ever make me hurt him to that extend, I just couldn't.

So I freed him, put my erected junk back in my leather (with all the difficulty of trying to fit something in a space that's much smaller than the 'something'), then dressed him back up gently.

He was crying in silence, and we both probably didn't know where we stood anymore.  
"Do you realise we're both driving each other crazy?" I sighed, resting my back against the opposite wall.  
He was silent for a while, then dried his eyes and smiled at me.  
"Do you realise I didn't even feel like fucking the chick I was with although she asked for it, just because of you?" He looked at me, then corrected himself, "Well, not because of you in _that_way, you know what I mean...".

This. This was the something that would have unleashed my anger in a physical mistreatment a little earlier, if it hadn't been him.  
"Then why did you kiss me?" I shouted, back in front of him, holding his shoulders painfully.  
"Because I wanted him to go away...", Mail looked at me with sad eyes, "I didn't want him or anyone to have you if it means we can't be friends anymore... I was kinda jealous."

My luck. The guy I'm in love with is straight, I can't have him in a romantic way, and still he's jealous and makes my dates walk away. How fair is that? Not that I really wanted to date the brunette from earlier, he was kinda nice to chat with, was a decent fuck, but it had all began because I wanted to give the change to Mail, and one thing leading to another, I ended up having sex with the brunette in the bathroom.  
"Mail... you were the one to end our friendship, so why punish me for a decision you made? It was already hard enough to say goodbye to you, now it's even harder to know you don't love me but you don't allow anyone near me just because you can't cope with your own decision. God, I feel like you're acting exactly like I would have! That's just insane..." I laughed. That was true, it was an attitude I could perfectly have had in the inverted situation, and that was probably why I couldn't even be mad at him anymore. We both had acted like perfect morons, but I couldn't be more happier than I was right now.  
Because now things were back to as normal as could be, and that's all I was asking for.

Mail laughed with me. Our pseudo fight had the merit to have drained the alcohol away from his system, he looked much better now, and as he straightened then closed the distance between us to hug me, I knew it was not an act, but a real wanted contact. I was surprised nonetheless but quickly snaked my arms around his waist, as he encircled my shoulders and held me close. "I owe this to you." he simply whispered in my ear. And he didn't let go this time.

"Although I feel quite unconfortable with your lower half." Mail chuckled after a few seconds. I was still hard and our position wasn't made to arrange things, and he couldn't have missed it, as close as we were.  
I smirked, my nose in his hair, and I held him closer, not wanting the embrace to end. I knew it wasn't a love embrace, but I didn't care, because he was willing and I wanted to make it last as long as possible. It probably would never happen again.  
So when he pulled away slightly, I felt like the world was ending. The beautiful moment was over. Or so I thought...

But Mail smiled at me in a way he never had done before, and as I was letting my arms go off him and began putting space between us, he pulled me back to him gently, our foreheads touched, and he brought a hand to cup my right cheek before letting it slide behind my head, and then he kissed me. And it was nothing like the peck he had given me a little earlier. It was a caress of lips at first, a light sucking of my lower lip, then a deep exchange with tongues, wet, tender, and my knees almost betrayed me.  
No one had ever done that to me. No one had ever had total control of me like Mail was having right now, and that's when I knew he was the one for me. No matter if he could never be mine, he was my true love.  
I wasn't even unhappy that my feelings weren't shared, because even if he was kissing me so tenderly that I could almost have cried, I knew it wasn't a kiss of love, even if it held so much love that it could have been confusing.

Oh, it was weird, I admit it, my best friend was kissing me although he wasn't gay, and he was pouring love in the kiss although he wasn't in love with me, anyone would have been confused, but I wasn't.  
I guess that if we wanted to make our friendship work, we'd have to push limits to where they would not exist anymore, because you can't have a normal friendship when you're a straight guy that has to be considerate toward the feelings of your gay friend, to the point that you don't even want to date a girl anymore if it means hurting your gay friend, and when you're me, I mean, a homosexual guy that can only get friendship from the one he truly loves.  
It was a kiss as much filled with love than our friendship was strong, and believe me, it was a rock.  
So it was weird, but I was happy.

The kiss had to end at some point, of course. But this time, I didn't feel empty like I had felt when I thought that the embrace would end. I was filled with the knowledge that no matter what would happen now, nothing would come between us.  
"How do you feel?" I asked Mail as he let go of me, still smiling at me.  
"Not as bad as I thought I would." he replied, chuckling, "That's not so terrible."  
"So you don't have any objection to do it again?" I teased him, knowing perfectly well that I should treasure that memory because it would never happen again.  
"Probably not." He reached for the doorknob and exited the booth. I was only seeing his back so I couldn't see his face, but I was totally taken aback, and he didn't even seem like he was joking. This time, I was confused.

We found ourselves in the parking lot after I gathered my stuff from the staff of us wanted to leave the other, and although Mail wasn't drunk anymore, it wasn't really safe to let him drive. But of course, asking him to leave his car here was not an option, he loved his "love machine" too much to let it sleep here at the mercy of taggers and other damage-meaning creatures. Just like I wouldn't let my motorbike here either.  
So we finally ended up driving slowly, him in his car, me following him on my engine, to my apartment, which was the closest place from here.

I had him call his parents although it was late (or early in the morning, as you wish), so they knew where he was and wouldn't worry, then we settled, me on my couch with coffee and him with a coke in my armchair. We had a lot to tell each other and for some reason none of us talked. We just appreciated each other's presence.  
The music, our common favorite band, was lulling us into a comfortable silence. I couldn't believe the chance I had. I mean, my best friend was such a great friend that he hadn't hesitated to hug me and kiss me although he wasn't gay, just because he knew it would make me happy. I was just skeptical about what I could do myself, in the same vein.  
Just stop teasing him wouldn't be enough, although it was a beginning, but I wished I could do more.

I was so lost in my thinking that I started when I felt the cushion of the couch lower beside me under his weight.  
He deposited his coke on the table in front of him, snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.  
I was puzzled and looked at him probably with a weird expression.  
"Let me just try something." he simply said, and glued himself closer than he already was.  
I let my head rest on his shoulder and my arm found his middle as I leaned a bit on him. I was torn between being unconfortable because of confusion, and being on a cloud. I was breathing against his neck, and I wanted so much to kiss it. But no, I couldn't risk breaking this moment. It was too precious, even if I didn't exactly know what it was that Mail was willing to try.  
I felt his cheek rest against my head, it was like he was holding me closer every second. His free arm rose until his hand met my hair. And he began to stroke it. I just couldn't believe it.

"Do you like it?" He asked all of a sudden.  
"Of course I like it. But what is it all about? You didn't turn gay magically so I will need you to explain because it's really confusing..." I straightened so I could look at him in the eyes.  
He smiled with that same expression from the toilets booth, one that I could finally place: he was looking at me like if I was the center of the world. God... this heaven was my personal hell it seemed.

"I want to know how far I can go without feeling disg... bad." he began. Disgusted, he almost said it. But I shouldn't be mad at him, he didn't seem disgusted to the least, so I guess it was not that bad., "I'm jealous that you could be happy with someone else, because I want to be able to spend all my time with you like before, but it's unfair and I know it. So because I'll probably ruin all your chances to have a boyfriend, I'm trying to provide you at least some physical contact, although it's probably not as much as you'd like..."

Mail smiled at me sheepishly. He was so cute I could have kissed him. Could I kiss him?  
"Do I have to wait that you initiate the contact, or will you let me... well, I really want to kiss you right now, and I really appreciate what you're trying to do although it's pretty fucked up, but I don't want you to feel like you felt when I... gave you a blowjob..."  
It was so not like me to hesitate and almost stutter. But I had to ask, to know the rules of our game, because I didn't want to be checkmate on a mistake.  
"Well, I'd prefer that you tell me, like you just did, because I still don't know if I can cope with it, or even if I like it. I like that it makes you happy, but it's... I'm not gay and it doe'sn't turn me on or anything, it's still totally against my nature and it's only between you and me, private I mean, but I see it like a help to a friend, like I would pat your back or something like that, you see?"  
"I see..." I guess this meant nothing would ever happen in public, which was quite normal after all. But if I could get hugs and kisses in private, I wouldn't complain. Although right now, what he was doing for me, and the way he looked at me, be it only out of friendship, only made me want him more, and he saw it immediately.  
"I won't be able to go _that_far though, Mihael." He laughed and grabbed his can of coke.

We stayed sat side by side, no hug, no contact, for a while, finishing our drinks, and as the CD was over, I broke the silence by asking the question that was burning my lips:  
"What can I do for you then, if you do that for me? You won't date girls, so you're gonna be frustrated at a moment or another..."  
"I'll figure this out on time." Mail sighed, "You shouldn't worry for that, I'll be ok, I have hands." He looked at me with a smirk.  
"I guess that suggesting you to be the girl for you isn't an option?" I joked.  
"Your boobs aren't big enough." Mail laughed out loud, poking into my chest.  
We fell silent again. I guess we were both tired by now, it was almost 4am.  
I stood up, stirring. "We should get some sleep."  
"Okay." Mail stood up and began to undress, throwing his clothes on a nearby chair. I did the same, quickly getting fully naked, and he didn't even seem to take offense.  
"I'll take the couch, take my bed." I offered. But Mail insisted on sleeping on the couch so I gave him a pillow and a blanket and shut all lights off before sliding under the sheets of my bed.  
Just before I drifted to dreamland, I heard him chuckle softly and whisper:  
"And to think I never ever held a chick like that or even kissed one that way...".


	26. Chapter 26

**_Note: _**_xxForeverLostxx told in her review that she would have liked to see what was going through Matt's head, and truth is, even if I know some of you don't like it when I write the same events from each point of view, this time it was necessary to understand Matt's motivations behind the kiss and you couldn't have completely understood the next events without his mind process. Because even if we're heading for some lemons, there's a great meaning as to why all of this happen, and it's mostly on Matt's side so you need a peep inside of his head._  
_Thank you so much everyone for the reviews, you're wonderful!_

_**Shameless self advertising:** I posted a oneshot yesterday, you can find it in my stories list under the title "**I drove all night**" (not a songfic, and no tribute to the horrible cover by Céline Dion.)_**  
**

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**Matt  
**I should have been scared, devastated. Mihael had his fingers in my ass and I had no doubts about what was coming next, and my mind (and maybe alcohol too) was only telling me that he'd regret it if he did it, that I couldn't let this happen because it would ruin everything even more than it already was, he would feel guilty and it would be something more to add in the balance of the things we had to work out.  
I wasn't even putting the hurt, the rape, the violence, into this balance. It was there, in the back of my mind, but all I could register was 'damn, he's just angry, he's not like that, it's only a mistake'.  
And probably, I would even have taken it, resignated first about the fact that I couldn't fight him anyway, and that it was only a bad moment that it would be over soon. I guess I had quite some alcohol in my system.  
Three months ago, I would probably have rather thought that I would never get over such a thing and that I'd send him in jail for that, that he was a sick mind and … right now I was being assaulted by a homosexual guy who was fingering me deeply and for sure I didn't want it and it freaked me out, but I was conditioning my brain to accept it if I couldn't prevent it, for the sake of our friendship. I could still not believe that Mihael wasn't like I thought he was. He wasn't a bastard, a liar, he wasn't the bad person he could have looked like he was at that precise moment.  
Fuck, I was the sick mind, probably, to think that way...

I had to ask him to stop. It came out of my mouth so faintly that I thought he wouldn't even hear me, but I didn't have the strength to speak louder, I was shocked, confused, I wanted him to be a good guy so much...  
And he stopped, just when I felt his dick against my anus. I was already mentally preparing for the pain when everything stopped.  
Not for long because I felt a sharp pain in my head this time, when my skull met the door. I tried to stand up, greatly helped by a violent pull, and my back met the wall again, knocking the air out of my lungs.

He was angry. Really angry. I guess he had the right to be after I made his date go away.  
But I also saw his anger leave him, as we shared a look. His features softened and then he dressed me back up like a child. I was feeling extremely stupid but I didn't stop him, shock was still taking over me.

We talked, tried to explain, and I knew he was right about everything, and I should be ashamed of what I did. But I wouldn't change a single thing. I wanted him to be my friend no matter what, I was being the most egoistic person on earth but I didn't want to go backward. I hated myself for being that selfish.  
And strangely, the hard head he was accepted everything I did, I mean, Mihael, who I thought was even more selfish than I was, showed me his true side, the one that could be aware of my flaws, and still take me as I was although it meant a lot of shit for him, like having possible boyfriends scared away by me.  
It sent me back to my own narrow mindedness months ago, and how much I had changed my mind in between.  
He wasn't my gay friend, he was my best friend, someone I truly loved as a person, because he had qualities I liked, and he was fun to be with, he was smart and even his temper was synonym of entertainment.  
This was why I was pushing things so far, I really couldn't lose that, life without such a person would be a sad one.  
And I wanted to be that same person for him. Bring him as much as he brought me, not only in terms of entertainment, but in terms of evolution, of intelligence. What would have I become as a man with the views I had on homosexuality? What would I have brought to other people, my hypothetic future children with so much intolerance?

No encounter is vain, I was strongly believing it now. But sometimes you don't give people the chance to show you what they can bring to you, and I was so thankful to Mihael for imposing himself on me like he had done, with his self assurance, his fucking way to only do what he wanted even when I voiced that I wanted the opposite... I wouldn't change a single thing of what had happened until now, not even the blowjob. That was to say something.

I didn't think before I took him in my arms. It just came instinctively. I was quite surprised by my own reaction once he snaked his arms around my waist, wondering if I really was up for that, but first, I had initiated this hug so it would have been extremely mean to push him away now that I had second thoughts, and quickly, I knew that it wasn't that bad, that it wasn't _gay_.  
Ok, I still had some difficulties with things that could be labelled gay, I guess I wasn't a macho for nothing, but it was only him and me, my friend and me, and a hug would not kill me.  
And finally, I think I liked it, if I didn't think of what could cross his mind, sexually speaking. He's gay, but it doesn't mean he automatically thinks of sex in any male/male interraction, right?

I could even feel his hard on against my stomach. I felt the hairs of my arms raise in protest but I willed the bad feeling away. It's only a dick, it's only the rest of his previous actions, not something I brought up with the hug. Breathe, everything's ok. I surprised myself at how calm I could stay.

I had no second thoughts for what I did next. I had to do it. It was the best way to show him how much I had changed, how much he had changed me. I wasn't gay, I was still straight as an 'I', and I kissed him.  
He kissed me back exactly like he had kissed me the day I thought I was kissing Annie. The fact that he was a guy put aside, he was a great kisser. Any girl kissing me like this would have turned me on instantly, but right now it did nothing of that nature to me. Ok, I admit it, I also tested myself somehow.  
All of these events had me questioning my sexuality at some point, because I was wanting to be with him so badly I had to wonder if I had feelings of another nature for him. But no, for sure, I had none. This was settled at least.  
But I felt a pang in my heart for some unknown reason.

He looked so happy, when we parted. It made me happy too that I could do that for him. It wasn't as horrible as I thought it would have been, I wasn't dead, I wasn't disgusted or on the verge of nausea. I was ok.  
I probably could even do it again. Maybe. If it makes him that happy.

A while later, we were at his apartment, and I was thinking of this pang in my heart, that I was beginning to understand. So I had to know.  
I sat beside him and tried to cuddle with him. It was so weird that I didn't know if he wanted me to do this or not. He knew I felt nothing of a romantic nature while doing that, he was aware of the fact it was just my way to thank him, but right now, I was trying to know if my doubts were founded.

His head was on my shoulder, and I could feel his breath against the skin of my neck. It was not natural. I wasn't attracted to him, and at the same time I was. I was freaking out inwardly each time the pang came back, it was confusing as hell.  
As a guy, I thought nothing of our physical contact. I was happy that it made him happy, but that was about all. I was still wondering if I would go on with this or not because it wasn't normal for me to do so.

And yet, I was regretting that he wasn't a girl. Each time I imagined he was one, the pang came back, sending butterflies in my stomach, and hormones in my crotch.  
And I was hating it. Because along with the hormones, tricking my mind into holding a female version of Mihael made me want to hug him and cuddle and kiss and tell him sweet words. As in: Mail is in love. And I've never been in love...

I tricked my mind so well that I found myself petting his hair, and _smelling_ it.  
But I quickly forced myself back to reality because this was pretty insane, and I wanted to stay on the side of the 'thank you hug'.  
I enquired if he liked it, at least, because I didn't want him to feel as weird as I felt, but he seemed more than willing for it, and more.  
But of course, it wouldn't happen, that was way beyond what I could do for him. Ok, maybe if his life depended on it, I'd do it, but the shiver it sent to my spine told me he'd better stay alive so I didn't have to experience gay sex.

We finally settle for the night, sleep was beginning to wash over us badly, but I couldn't help telling him that he was the only one I've done that with. In my sleepy state, I felt the need to tell him the importance it held. Just in case I would go backward the next day once I wasn't tired or alcohol-influenced anymore.

I woke up in the middle of the night, or better, morning, since the apartment was already bathed with sunlight, since Mihael hadn't closed the blinds before we went to sleep, and considering the fact we had been to bed around 4am.  
I glanced at the digital clock on Mihael's bed table, stretching my neck over the arm of the couch: 10am.  
I was still tired, and feeling a headache coming, but after a few minutes, I was unable to find sleep again. What I had seen while looking in direction of the bed was disturbing.

Mihael slept naked, this was no news to me, but seeing him laid on his stomach and the sheets only covering his legs, well, it was really easy to imagine he was a chick (he'd kill me for that thought).  
I stared. Yes, I admit it.  
I was sickly tricking my mind again. I don't know why because it was insane, and leading nowhere, and even worse, it hurt each time I came back to reality. And still I did it.  
I shifted slightly so I could see him without stretching my neck this time, and really he has a chick's ass. Round, not a single hair, slightly curvy.  
I was touching my dick even before I realised I was. _That_was insane.

But I shut my inner voice and began masturbating. I couldn't sleep, my head was aching, and I suddenly needed to release the tension, I guess all of this was only because I was sexually frustrated, a little jerking off and everything would be forgotten. Even if I was caressing myself looking at Mihael's ass. I added him boobs and a pussy though, as I closed my eyes to imagine better.

**Mello**  
I woke up, but didn't feel like moving. I wasn't the kind to sleep long nights and even if we had gone to sleep late, past 9am I had all the difficulties in the world to stay in bed. It was past 10am. I looked down, only turning my head, the rest of my body still imprinted in the mattress, to the couch where Mail was sleeping, or so I thought. But what I saw sent blood right to my cock. He was resting on the arm of the sofa, bare chest, and even bare dick.  
The sight of his erected member and his hand strocking it turned me on so badly I slid my hand under myself to do the same.  
But I made too much noise and he stopped, covering himself with his blanket and looking in my direction with a horrified look. Shit.

"Hey, it's ok, I was doing the same..."  
It wasn't the right thing to say, obviously. I'm so much at ease with my body that I really didn't care that he jerked off on my couch. Ok, I'm gay too, so it's probably a bigger problem for him since he's not.  
"Oh, thanks, I feel even worse now..." he mumbled, his arm on his eyes shamefully.

I acted on impulse and stood up to reach the couch, sitting beside his lain body.  
"Mail, I can understand that you're sexually frustrated, why be ashamed?" I wanted to make him understand that it was ok. Hell, which guy hasn't jerked off with other male friends when younger, when boys begin to discover their sexuality? It was like smoking weed together or roasting marshmallows in a campfire!  
But Mail had had a lonely childhood, I knew since it had been the topic of one of our long chats.  
And he was straight. If he had made so many efforts to understand my homosexuality and how I thought, I had to understand the way he worked. And it was easy.  
Any sexual activity near me probably made him think it made him gay. I couldn't say it did nothing to me, of course, the object of my love and desire trying to reach orgasm near me just made me want to help and get my share of pleasure out of it, when all he wanted was to relieve himself alone without me knowing.

But I was stubborn and imposing my views was something I did on a daily basis, so I pulled the cover off his cock and took it in my hand. I had already seen it, touched it, and even sucked it, but God, I wanted this so badly... Seven inches of wet dreams.  
His eyes went as wide as plated and he pushed my hand away violently while straightening his position.  
"Mihael!" Mail was horrified, "Stop that!"  
I could tell he didn't even believe himself what I just did. Ok, it was daring, and totally against his nature, but fuck, it wasn't wrong, it was just his friend litterally lending a hand.

His chest was still heaving from his previous ministrations, his light abs were showing, and his member was still teasing me. He was gorgeous. And I was naked and sat with my own erection thigh against thigh with him.  
He didn't move further though, it was like he was trying to take a decision.

I was holding my breath, because his eyes told me something was bound to happen. I knew that we wouldn't end up fucking like horny beasts, but I knew him well enough to recognise the battling mind behind this expression of his.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Note: **__Helloooo dear readers! Yes, one more update! Actually, once chapter 26 was posted yesterday, I kept on writing, and got 27, 28 and 29 done in a row. Just to prove that I can be even more cruel than with my evil cliffhangers, I'll post only one chapter a day. But it's only half a cruel new because it means a daily update until monday!_

_On a totally different topic, do you also have problems with the new version of FF? I get the emails when someone reviews, but the reviews hardly show in the site, and I can't reply to them, and it seems updates alerts are still not sent to everyone._  
_If you're concerned, don't hesitate to follow me on Twitter under xcloudbustingx._

_As always, thank you for the wonderful reviews, the support for my job search, I hope the lemons I squeezed in here are enough to show my gratitude!_

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**Mello  
**I didn't know if I should have been happy or question his sanity, when he finally made his decision. Hesitantly at first he took my hand, and brought it to his still hard penis. Covering my fingers with his palm, closing them around him, he began to move his hand up and down. I was there, mouth hanging half open in disbelief. I was still sleeping, that couldn't be true!  
I was staring at him, searching for any clue about this, but he had closed his eyes, head slightly bowed. His moves were still unsure, I could tell it by the way he went slowly, barely applying pressure.  
But little by little he gripped his member more firmly, and entwined his fingers with mines. I still couldn't believe what was happening. The up and down movement increased in speed and pressure, as well as his breathing becoming heavier.

Suddenly his hand left his member, leaving mine alone, and he gripped the couch on both sides of his hips, resting his back against the cushions, and for a brief second I wondered if he was about to ask me to stop.  
His eyes were still squeezed shut and he didn't seem to bother that I was still pumping him, so I went on, still not understanding shit. But I wouldn't refuse the treat, oh no.

I jerked him off faster, and I could feel the wetness of precum under my fingers as it leaked along his length.  
Oh fuck, how I wanted him!  
I resumed masturbating myself, I couldn't take it anymore. I wished he would return the favor, but he seemed so lost in whatever land he was behind his closed eyelids that it would've been impossible. And because he would never do that, I guess, although I was starting to have doubts about his sexuality at that point.

I wanted to have that cock in my mouth, but I didn't dare to go that far, afraid to stop whatever we were doing. So I kept on pumping him, and I drank his beautiful features as pleasure took over him. I could tell he was close, his thighs were beginning to twitch lightly and I could see his lower abs contract in rhythm.  
It was enough for me to come all over my hand, trying to be silent, but he followed not long after me, and, unable to resist anymore, I engulfed his member in my mouth just when semen started to spurt out.

He moaned loudly as he came, he didn't push me away like I thought he would, but once he was finished, breathing heavily, he slowly opened his eyes and glanced at me. His cheeks reddened more than they already had with orgasm and his eyes fell on my hands, that were in my lap, covered with sperm.  
I saw the panic in his eyes, just like if he was realising what just happened. Hey man, you were there too, you know, it shouldn't be a surprise. His eyes were shiny and I think he was on the verge of tears, confusion marring his face as he looked at me once again.  
"I'm sorry..." he whispered before running to the bathroom. I heard the shower not long after. Sorry?

I was confused as hell. As much as it looked like it, I didn't want to think about the eventuality that he wasn't as straight as he claimed to be. I didn't want to get my hopes up, Mail was a complicated mind to understand, and coming down from such a high expectation would hurt too much, so I tried to will my own mind to keep feet on the ground. But shit, he had let me jerk him off! We were way beyond a hug or a kiss!

I prepared some coffee while he was in the bathroom. At some point he came out of it, a towel around his waist, and it looked like he didn't dare to look at me.

**Matt**  
The water was cold but I didn't care. What had I done? What had I let him do?  
Now he was more than certainly thinking I had changed my mind, and that I was gay. I couldn't blame him for that, I did everything for this to happen. But damn, why? Why didn't I just push him away? Why imagining him as a girl once again? Sexual frustration doesn't explain everything, I just let _my gay best friend _masturbate me! That's sick as shit. He's not a girl, he has a dick too damnit!

I stopped washing my penis when it began to hurt. I felt like I needed to rub his fingerprints away from me, like if it would erase what happened, but at some point the skin was irritated and I still felt dirty.  
Some of the feelings I had about homosexuality were surfacing, and I was disgusted by what I had done now.  
But it dawned on me that the worst was to come: I would have to explain this to Mihael, and he would not be happy with my reasons...

I rinsed myself, grabbed a towel and exited the bathroom. I couldn't look at Mihael. I got dressed quickly.

"Coffee?" he offered.  
"Yes please." I mumbled. I sat at the kitchen table, I needed to get this cleared, now. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened, I didn't mean to make it look like this..."  
"Look like what?" Mihael cut me, and I could tell he was defensive already.  
"I'm still not gay, and it's not what you think..."  
He cut me again, I could feel his anger rise: "How would you know what I think?"  
"Mihael... I know you're gonna hate me for that, but I was so horny I couldn't think straight, and I was imagining you as a girl and..." I stopped to look at him, wanting to know if I should prepare for a blow. But he was just staring at me and I regretted, oh how I regretted what I had done...  
"Do you realise what you're telling me, Mail?" his voice was so soft, it was a rare thing for him, "If I was a girl, I'd just be one of your many sluts? Is that what you're saying? I'd be one of your backseat fucks like Layla or Annie?" His voice had risen again, breaking on the last words, and it was obvious he was hurt and trying to hide it.  
"No. No, you wouldn't be that." I stood up, instinctively wanting to take him in my arms to comfort him. But Mihael was obviously not inclined to let me close to him. Actually, he reminded me of when he had beaten me to a pulp at the beginning of our relationship. I really had fucked up once again. Was I only good at that?

"Go away. I don't want to hear anynmore of what you have to say."  
His voice was ice cold, as were his eyes, and it sent shivers to my spine. As well as I knew him, he still could scare the shit out of me.  
But if I left now, things would be over once and for all, there would be no other chance. It would really be the end this time. I wouldn't let that happen so I began to speak my heart out, that's all I could do at this point, but maybe he'd understand.

"Mihael, please, it's not like this at all!" I pleaded him, but he pushed me to the door firmly.  
"Shut up and get out of my apartment." he was stone cold.  
"No! I won't go until you heard what I have to say!"  
"SHUT UP!" he yelled, and his fist connected with my jaw. Fuck, it hurt!  
My lower lip was bleeding but I kept on talking, uncaring.  
"I wish you were a girl Mihael, because things would be way more simple and I just could date you and kiss you and make love to you, but it's not like this and it's complicated for me because I'm in love with someone that will never exist, and there's not a single chance that I turn gay, so I lose my mind because it's fucking difficult to live, can't you understand that?" I shouted, totally devastated, because his face was decomposing, and I was losing it.  
This time I was pretty sure he would throw me out of his life and I'd never see him again.

I don't know how long he stayed silent, and the situation was more than weird. He sat back at the kitchen table, served us coffee, I sat facing him, and we drank our cups without a word.  
Even when we had finished, he was still looking at his hands encircling the mug, in silence.  
At least he let me stay, there was probably some hope that we could work this out.

"I don't know if I should cry or laugh." he said suddenly, and looked at me. His face was blank.  
I couldn't say a word, I was so afraid to worsen my case that I kept my mouth shut.  
"When I thought things couldn't be more fucked up than they were, you're proving me otherwise." he went on, "Mail, we really have a problem. You'll never be gay and I'll never be a girl, what do we do now?" Mihael shook his head, "Why can't you be in love with me as a guy?... I mean, I'd be the same, just without a dick, what does it change?"  
"I can't get passed this detail... I'm sorry, it's beyond my capacities, I've tried, I promise you, I've really tried, look how far I've gone a little earlier! But still, I felt bad afterward, I felt..." I just couldn't say this to him.  
"Dirty... I know Mail. I know that even if you changed your mind a lot, you can't act against what you are, and you're straight, period."

Mihael stood up, picked up our mugs to deposit them in the sink, and he went to take a shower.  
When he was back, fully dressed, I was sat on the windowsill, smoking. I was dragging on my fourth cigarette in a row, those events had me totally in need of a huge dose of nicotine.  
I couldn't stand his look. He was hurt, not by the fact I could not love him as a guy, but because of what could have been. Without details, big details like being straight, not being a girl, we'd be a couple, and a very loving one, I was sure of it, and he knew it too. That's what hurt the most.

We had been silent for a very long moment, and I knew that I couldn't comfort him by hugging him, it would hurt even more. So at some point I thought it would be better to leave him alone and I left. He didn't object although he sighed and almost made me change my mind, but it was better to have some time alone, although I dreaded not to see him again. I forced myself to think that if he really wanted to get rid of me for good, he's have thrown me out already.

**Mello**  
I didn't really want him to go, actually, I was afraid of myself once he'd be gone, afraid of my thoughts turning round and round in my head. It hurt like a bitch to think that he was in love with the female version of me. I mean, he loved me, really loved me, what I was as a person and all! It was intoxicating to think that I could be his ideal mentally, and yet so heartbreaking that nothing was possible because of my dick. I could even feel more love for him than I already felt, knowing he had tried, tested himself for me. But the result was all the same: I was a guy and he was still not gay.

The following days were hectic. We saw each other on a daily basis, went to uni, most of the time he'd pick me up with his car, and we'd end up at my apartment for a drink after class and talked, but the subject of the recent events was never brought up.

It had been two months now and we were nearing the end of the scholar year, and I was supposed to go back to Germany. No need to say how much I didn't want to leave. So I managed to agree with my parents to go back there for two weeks in July, and two more at the end of August. But spending the whole vacations away from Mail was impossible, I just couldn't take it, even with this weird atmosphere between us. Oh, we had a lot of fun, things were kinda like before everything happened, but we were both avoiding a hurtful topic and we knew it.

He drove me to the airport the day of my departure, and it was really hard to leave him.  
As I was about to enter the hall where he couldn't follow me anymore, he kissed me on the cheek. All I could do was smile to him, but I wanted so much more... And suddenly I knew what I had to do to solve the situation.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Note: **As promised! I added a few lines before posting although it was written since friday, but I'm not on my own computer (oh, how I miss my beloved laptop) so there may be even more typos than usual, sorry!_

_I hope that FF will solve reviews, alerts and stuff problems because it's becoming really annoying. Their new system is already unnerving (I don't know for you, but I liked the old thing better), but if it doesn't work, it wasn't worth the change!_

_To reply to reviews quickly because I can't send private messages: I don't know how many chapters are left, this fic already went from 10-15 chapters planned when I started it, to 28 today, so I'd rather not estimate what's left, I'd probably be wrong. But it's not over yet, there's still a lot to come, this, I can say ^^_  
_Oh, and just so you know, everything has been verified before being used in the fic, because I can't write anything that's not accurate, it's like with Lithium and all the medical side. So all the facts and informations are true concerning, well, just read, I won't give it away!_**  
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**Matt  
**I wished I had had the money to go with him, although he never asked me to. I so wanted to see Mihael in Germany, hear him speak german, see how he acted where he came from.  
No need to say I was bouncy the day he was coming back. Two weeks and I missed him like hell, although he had called me almost everyday. I had done nothing of my time while he was abroad, just surfed the web, chatted on the net, read articles. Yes, all about homosexuality. I was somehow obsessed with the topic.  
I can't say that I wasn't hoping to change my mind, it would have made things so easier! But although watching gay sex movies didn't bother me anymore, it still didn't turn me on. There was no hope.

I also had spent a fair amount of time reviewing all the previous months in my head. I could even get angry at myself when I thought about how much of a fucktard I was before I met Mihael, and during the first months I knew him. I could realise how much I had changed, but how much he had changed too. Of course, I didn't know him for long, but he was so very far from the self assured, big headed blond with the cold look from our beginnings!  
He still was somehow, if I thought about the club where he worked... when we weren't together, actually.  
It made me realise that I may have changed him as much as he had changed me, but I couldn't be sure. It bothered me, because I didn't exactly know how he was with guys he dated, or friends, the short glance I had at the club with Zac Efron didn't tell much, nothing that happened at that moment was normal and I was half drunk, so I couldn't tell for sure.  
But for me, he seemed to become so emotional sometimes, like he didn't know how to deal with my hesitations, and his own feelings. He looked clueless even if fortunately, he was collected enough to try to work things out with me. I bet he had way more qualities than I gave to his credit, although to me he already had a lot. He was patient, this I could now figure out, because he hadn't thrown me out of his apartment in the end, when we had our last fight, he coped with all my changes of mind, all my steps forward then backward...  
Maybe he was as much of a teddybear inside than he was strong looking outside?  
The thought made me laugh out loud.

When my phone rang and I saw that it was Mihael, I jumped off my seat. He was supposed to arrive at the airport in the evening and it was only 11am, maybe he had taken an early flight?

"Hey Mail..."  
"Mihael! How is it going?" I was joyful, but not for long.  
"I'm sorry, I know you had planned to pick me up at the airport, but I won't be coming back today... I hope I'm not telling you too late, I had to cancel my flight, I don't exactly know when I'll be back..."  
"Oh..." I think I could have cried. But something was wrong, his voice was a bit different and he seemed tired. "Are you ok?" I asked, worried.  
"No, I'm just sick, that's why I had to cancel, a bad cold, don't worry, I'll be fine, but I can't fly as long as I'm contagious..."  
I could understand, of course, being miles high with a cold is not nice, but contagious? It meant it was kinda serious.  
"Ok, please take care of you, I miss you..." the words passed my lips even before I could stop them.  
"I miss you too... Mail..." He was about to say something but obviously stopped. Maybe it had sounded a little too much "lovetalk" and he was uncomfortable with this.  
"I hope you'll be here soon, playing Tekken alone is not fun!" I tried to joke but the mood was sad for both of us.  
"Don't worry, I'll come back to kick your ass soon." I could feel the smile in his words, and it comforted me a bit.  
"Bye."  
"Tchuss."  
I liked it when he used german words, I could understand a few, and his accent was lovely.  
I sighed. I wouldn't see him tonight, and the wait would be even harder now that I didn't even know when he'd come back. I wondered what he was about to say though.  
I chuckled at the thought of our furious fights at Tekken 6. Kick my ass Mihael? I laughed. He could never beat me at any game.

He called me again everyday after that, four days in a row, but his voice was weirder each time, and it didn't sound like the voice of someone who has a cold, so I was starting to worry, mostly because I had the impression that Mihael was lying to me and trying to find excuses not to come back. Ah, I was becoming paranoid now...

But when he stopped calling me everyday, I really began to be sick with anxiety.  
I had no news the next day, but I didn't want to call, first because it would cost me an arm and I didn't have the money, and because I didn't want to harass him. Did he find a boyfriend? Was he beginning to regret coming to the USA? Would he come back? Was he mad at me?  
After four days he finally called, and truth is, if he hadn't I would have done it, no matter the cost.  
We didn't talk long, he sounded awfully tired, and now I was worried for a totally different reason.  
"Mihael, is your disease serious?" I asked bluntly, unable to contain myself.  
"Kinda. It will take some time before I get better, but don't worry ok, it's not that bad, I'm just a bit tired..."  
"I can hear it... you would tell me if there was something else, right?"  
"Mail, don't worry that much, I'll be back, I promise, it's not as bad as it sounds, and I want to see you too much not to come back." He reassured me on one point, but I was still sick with worry concerning his health. His voice was different, like higher pitched, and so strained...  
"I wish I could do something..." What could I say?  
"Just hearing your voice is already much, believe me..." Ok, now it really sounded like it was bad.  
"Mihael, if something goes really wrong, tell me and I'll fly to Germany, don't let me in ignorance, ok?"  
"Hey, I'm not gonna die, ok? It's nothing _that _bad." he chuckled but it was so forced I couldn't believe him.

I laid on my bed all night, unable to sleep, after that conversation. Early, around 6am, something came to my mind: I could probably search the web for any epidemy in Germany, maybe I would find out what Mihael had and see by myself how long it would take for him to be better?  
But after scrolling pages and pages, jumping from one to another, I didn't find anything. There was no epidemy in Germany at the moment, so I began to type his symptoms and the first page that appeared in Google sent me throwing up in the bathroom. It was about AIDS.  
I called him straight away.

"Mail, are you crazy? You don't have the money to make such a call, let me call you back!"  
Mihael practically hung up to my nose. Seconds seemed hours before my cell rang as he called me back.  
"Mail, what's wrong?"  
"What's wrong? Mihael, you, what's wrong? You're not telling me much about your disease and I was searching the web and I found that page about AIDS and..." I talked so fast that I didn't even catch my breath.  
"AIDS? Are you crazy Mail? Of course I don't have AIDS! I protect myself, in case you doubted it, I'm not stupid! Or to the least, I protected myself when I still had a sex life..." It was a poor attempt at a joke, but it made me feel worse, because it just reminded me of our situation.  
And this voice, it was probably the line, but he sounded so different... I wanted to see him, hear his real voice, I would probably even hug him, damn, I missed him!  
"I'm sorry, I think I'm getting paranoid. See what your absence do to me." My own poor attempt at a joke, but his reply somehow showed me some of the Mihael I knew.  
"Yeah, I'm that awesome, I know, once you tasted the candy, you're addicted." Even his laughter was different.

After that day, one full week passed before he called, and we were already in august. My mum was trying everyday to cheer me up, to drag me outside of my room, but I had no energy, no will to do anything. Even she didn't understand the state I was putting myself in for a friend.  
Mihael sounded better on the phone, less tired, but his voice was still irritating me to no end because I couldn't get his original voice, it was distorted by the line and it just reminded me how far away he was.

One more week before he called, and this time, I knew something was not normal. I even suspected that he lied to me. It couldn't be the phone changing his voice like this, it was even higher pitched than the previous time he had called me.  
Then I got an email, three days after his call. He was telling me that from now on he'd send me emails because he would probably not be able to call me anymore. He said something about changing the lines in his parents' house, but I didn't believe him. He could call me from his cell phone, or call from a public phone. I didn't question him about this though, although I regretted it afterward.

Strangely, by email he was much more talkative and cheerful. Which comforted me in the certitude that the problem came from his voice, that he didn't want me to hear.  
I traced his IP, but the little idea I had proved to be wrong. I had thought that maybe he wasn't in Germany or something, but the IP was located in the area where he was supposed to be so there was no doubt about that fact. Wrong direction. Ah, too many spy movies, he wasn't in a lost country where the lines were so bad that they deformed voices that much, or something like that... It was really setting my brain into overdrive.

That night, I turned our last conversations again and again in my head, trying to understand what was the problem, what made his voice change, and the internet came to my help once again.  
No, he couldn't have vocal chords cancer, could he?

I was so miserably dragging my feet from the kitchen to my room after I fetched something to eat, around 4pm the next day, that my mother forced me to sit in the living room with her and talked to me.  
I broke down. I told her everything. Absolutely everything, minus the sexual parts. It was too much to bear alone, and worry was making me so sick!

"Mail, why didn't you ask him directly about his voice, if you think it did change that much?"  
"Probably because I'm scared of the answer..."  
"Honey, he's your friend, and obviously the bond you have with him is very strong, so whatever it is, he may need your support, if it is something bad. He may not tell you not to worry you, but he keeps on contacting you, he didn't cut communication, so it says something. If he didn't want to talk to you, he would have stopped calling, and wouldn't have sent you emails, bu he does these things, he still cares, and maybe he's trying to alert you without saying it, he may have his pride."  
"I guess so... Mum, do you think I'm abnormal? Do you think it's insane to be in love with someone's personality but not to be attracted to him because he's not of the right gender?"  
"I understand what you mean Sweetheart, and I don't think you're abnormal, you're just confused... I'm sure you'll figure things out someday, it's just a bit fresh in your mind right now, but answers will come in time, believe me. But I don't believe there's a right gender, Mail. I think you want to be attracted by him so you would make him happy, and that if he was a girl, of course he'd be your girlfriend, maybe you're really changing, maybe not, only you know."  
She stopped for a gulp of her coffee. Was she meaning that I was slowly turning gay even if I didn't realise it?  
"But apart from vocal chords cancer, there's something else I'm thinking about, Hun."  
I was on my feet, palms flat on the table, as soon as she had finished her sentence: "What? Tell me please!" I was on the verge of explosion.  
"Have you never thought that after what you told him, Mihael could decide to... change his gender? He seems to love you very deeply, and considering the state you're in these days, I can only understand how deep it runs, if you are in such a state yourself. That's what I'm thinking of."

This solution had never occurred to me. It was so enormous! I just couldn't imagine Mihael doing that. I mean, he likes being a guy, he never showed any sexual identity problem, ok, he's gay, but he's a very male homosexual. He looks gay, but he's a macho. No, my mind couldn't process this solution. Im-po-ssi-ble. He likes his dick too much.  
And you don't just transform into a woman in a few weeks with a little surgery? I hoped not...  
I began to google those clues, and the IP tracking at least comforted me about the fact that he hadn't gone in Morocco or Tunisia for a gender change surgery, countries where laws were less strict about that kind of things. Because as long as he was in Germany, or any country of that kind, he couldn't do such a thing with a snap of fingers, it was way more complicated. It was a crazy idea my mum just had, it just couldn't be the truth.

But two minutes later, I was calling him. Uncaring for the fact that it was around midnight in Germany. Fortunately, calling on his cell phone, I would not wake up everyone there.  
He didn't pick up the call, and I got his answering machine. Fuck. I couldn't leave a message, what to say? Hey Mihael, it's Mail, I just wanted to know if you cut your dick off, call me back. Lame...  
But when he called me back a few seconds after I had hung up, my heart jumped out of my chest.  
"Mail?" he simply said, and there was worry in his voice. I thought he'd yell at me for waking him up in the middle of the night but he seemed truly worried.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't think about what time it was before calling, I had an urgent question and... fuck, I'm really sorry, it was stupid."  
"Hey, it's ok, I wasn't sleeping, and anyway, it wouldn't have been a problem, you can call me anytime..."  
Wow. Was I really talking to Mihael? For a brief second, I wondered if the voice change meant I hadn't talked to Mihael the whole time but to someone acting like he was Mihael, but that was purely stupid.

"Mihael, I noticed your voice had changed, and I want to know exactly what's going on. I'm worried sick Mihael, tell me, please. Whatever it is, I'm your friend, and I'm by your side."  
Mihael stayed silent for a few seconds and then he hung up.


	29. Chapter 29

**_Note: _**_This is not the last chapter of the daily updates! I couldn't write on saturday, because I'm currently 400km away from home and was busy partying XD_  
_But on sunday (yesterday) I could add some paragraphs to 28 posted yesterday and 29 below, wrote 30 and 31. So daily updates will go on until wednesday, more if I write today, which is very likely. I can cram between 2 and 4 chapters a day so let's see where this leads us ^^_

_Oh, and one thing was obvious in your reviews for the previous chapter: none of you want Mihael to have a sex change. You know that the next chapters are already written, and that I'm not one to change my mind on a plot according to reviews. But if you know me a bit as an author, well, you know I only root for MattxMello as guys and that my plots do U-turns very often just because I don't like predictable stuff. So read on! (not to give anything away, but I know what it is to fear for the next events in a fic, so I wanted to reassure you, if I was a reader of this fic and not the author, I'd probably have already tracked down the author, hung him/her by the feet and whipped him/her to death... XD)_**  
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**Mello**  
Fuck. Shit. Fucking damn shit. The question I had dreaded for weeks. Of course he would have noticed at some point.  
I was trying to make this last until September, when I'd be finally back, because it was impossible for me to come back now. I had begun a long process and things weren't yet settled in the US for the suite of what I had begun.  
It was a surprise, and I couldn't ruin it. First. And second, I didn't want to have the opportunity to change my mind, it had already been hard to take the decision.  
Because taking the decision to change something you like in the first place is not something easy.

I was trying to become the girl Mail would love. Because even if I never had a problem with being a guy, never thought I should have been a girl, I was gay, ok, but I was ok with that. I wasn't transsexual, well, I had a problem with the obstacle between Mail and me as a couple. So if I had to make the sacrifice of what I was for him to love me fully, then I'd do it. It wasn't such a big deal, after all. Or at least, that's what I tried to tell myself everyday when I vomited under the effect of hormones.

But although I was doing all of this so he could finally have me as he wished, facing the truth of what I was doing for real, with him, telling him, was just way more stressing than I thought. It's when I realised that although I was doing this for myself (I was aware that it was to serve my interests better, to be with the one I loved, I couldn't say I was doing it for him, let's be realistic), to let him know now was meaning that he'd give his advice, and even if I had persuaded myself until now that he would jump of joy and we'd have our happy ever after once I'd be back, it wasn't so easy. What if he finally decided that he wouldn't like a fake girl as a girlfriend?  
Let's be realistic once again, even if I went to the end of the process, I'd never feel feminine. It's not like I had issues with my gender, I wasn't a woman trapped in a guy's body, I had the body that suited my gender and I loved it.

That's why taking the decision had been difficult. It was crazy, unreasonable, I knew it. It was like getting a nose job when mine was perfectly shaped, or dying my hair black although I liked being a true blond. I was going against everything I was, and I wasn't letting rational thoughts get in the way: no, I wouldn't regret it, no, Mail would not freak out and no I shouldn't tell him first, yes, we'd be together forever, there was no possibility that we broke up once we were together when I'd be a chick...  
I was impulsive, and this time I think I was exploding my own limits.

As soon as I had arrived in Berlin, I had taken an appointment with a psychiatric centre for gender change. Where I learnt that I would need to have regular visits with a psychiatrist during 2 to 7 years to make sure I really wanted to become a woman, then I would get a hormonal treatment for life, and I could get surgery if I wanted to complete the process after a few more years. I didn't have those years, I had until September.  
I briefly considered travelling to a country where it was easier, and quicker, to get a gender change, but it would still take a few months because you needed to get hormones change your biology before getting surgery, even without the long psychiatric process, and the cost... fuck!  
I needed at least to begin the treatment. Mail would wait for me, right? I could get surgery the next year, at least I planned to...  
In my mind, if it hadn't taken all these years, I wasn't even bothered by the act I would have had to play in front of psychiatrists. I knew I could do it, lying is something I can do, I could convince anyone of anything, I'm that good. So even if I didn't really hate my male body except for the fact Mail didn't like it, I could pull out the most heart wrenching story possible about how feminine I felt inside and needed to get this horrible outgrowth removed.

So with a little help of the black market and not-so-legal ways, I managed to get the treatment, at a cost that emptied half of my bank account in Germany (and believe me, I had more than twenty thousands Euros on it...)  
I still needed to settle ways to get the treatment once I'd be back in California, my contact in Berlin was working things out but it was taking time and his own contact there announced two months before I could get on his list of customers, he couldn't get enough treatment for me before September since he had difficulties to get the chemicals cross the customs illegally, and he had other customers to serve first. And of course, it was out of question for me to take the medics with me when I'd take the plane back to California, I'd be arrested.  
And without proof that I was followed by the gender change centre or something similar and legal, and serious, then I'd have big problems. As a gay, going in jail was nothing I dreamt of, believe me. I'm not fond of picking up the soap.

I had dreaded that I wasn't buying a real hormonal treatment since it was all illegal, and I was kinda paranoid about every symptom the first days, I could as well be taking amphetamines, acid, vitamins, or a placebo. But nothing except symptoms close to what I imagine were ones of a pregnancy began: nausea, throwing up, dizziness, tiredness, abnormal hunger, irritated mood... At least I could feel womanly. Great.

So, the treatment made me sick as hell. It got slightly better after the first month, although I kept on throwing up and get hungry all the time, but when my voice had changed so much that it sounded way more feminine than previously, I had to tell Mail I would send him emails and find a lie to explain why I wouldn't call, things were becoming too obvious. But Mail didn't buy the lie, it was too bad to be swallowed anyway. Proof is, he called me on my cell tonight. I could have called myself, from my cell, if the home lines were being changed, and he probably knew it even if he didn't say a word about it when I lied to him.

Thus when he asked me the question I dreaded so much, I couldn't find the words to reply. So I cut the call.  
He called me again, and left a message on my answering machine.  
"Mihael, answer me, please! You won't make me believe that everything's fine after hanging up like this. If you don't tell me, I'll find out by myself even if I have to fly to Germany."  
I was unable to call him. He left a second message, when I ignored his call again.  
"I'm not kidding Mihael, I'm reserving a flight while I'm talking to you right now, I'm leaving tomorrow at 9am, and you'd better have your explanations ready because I'll be ready to hear anything you have to say."  
Oh fuck, I loved him, it was beyond words. I know he was serious, he'd fly here just for me even if he didn't have the money, putting himself in a pretty bad situation. And moreover, all he wanted was to know what was wrong, whatever it was, making it clear that he'd accept anything, he just worried for me...

I don't know if it was the hormones, but I began to cry like a fucking chick. Well, at least I started to act like one...  
At his third call, I replied. I couldn't ignore him anymore, I was beginning to fear that he thought I didn't want to talk to him anymore, and never called again.  
"Mihael... damn, what's so bad that you can't tell me? Please... don't let me like this, not knowing what's wrong with the person that counts the most for me..."  
Whether he was trying to buy me or not, I knew he was sincere even if the choice of words was probably not innocent.  
"Mail..." I sobbed pathetically.  
"Mihael, fuck, don't cry, hey... shit, I wish I was next to you right now, it's so damn frustrating to be far away when you're in that state!"  
I knew that if I tried to talk, I would break down in cries, so I just sniffled even more pathetically.  
"Mihael, talk to me. I don't care that you sob, cry or whatever sound you make. Just talk to me, there's nothing to be ashamed of."  
His voice was so comforting, so tender. I couldn't ignore his pleas, I owed him an answer.

"I'll be back in September Mail, and I'll be your girlfriend."

**Matt**  
I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again, I think I was starting to lack air. That couldn't mean what I thought it meant!  
My mother was right. It couldn't be true, he hadn't done that! But what if she was right? No, it's just not possible.  
I was blunt but I had no other way to spit it out, shock taking me over completely, various scenarios and horrible bloody images of surgery coming to my mind:  
"Mihael, don't tell me that you got surgery?"  
"No, of course not!"  
Holy shit, at least this was excluded of the picture... I breathed again, partially relieved.  
"Then what? Explain to me, I don't understand then, how could you be my girlfriend?"  
It was beyond my understanding, we were not just talking about cross dressing, he wouldn't be crying for that, and avoiding talking to me! And the voice change wouldn't be explained then.  
That's when my mind registered that _Mihael was crying_.  
Mihael didn't cry! That was just so out of character!

And he explained to me, everything, from his first visit at the centre, to the black market, which earned him a scolding, I mean, who knows what could have been in pills from the black market, it could as well have been drugs or poison!  
I could feel in his voice that he wanted my approval. And I was unable to tell anything about that. I didn't know what to think. Except that he was really loving me for doing all this. I was flattered, but I wasn't sure I liked the idea. Oh, I know he was partially acting egoistically, he wanted to be with me, it wasn't just to please me, but as much as he tried to make it sound like he did it for himself, trying not to involve me, as the badass he wanted to look like, that takes his own decisions and stuff, I knew him better than that.  
He knew the risks, not only the fact he could have gotten false pills, but the fact he was putting his health in the balance, and I knew that he respected himself enough not to jump with a blindfold in such a process. Everything screamed of unwise decisions, taken under the influence of pain. Affective pain. And it was a pain I was inflicting him, because of what I said, what I did. If I had simply told him I had tried but I really wasn't attracted to him, then he wouldn't have done that. I should have never told him that I was in love with the female Mihael.  
It was cruel and I was seeing it only now, when it was too late.

I was happy that he had told me everything. We ended up on Skype for the rest of the night. Now that he wasn't afraid to talk to me anymore, he accepted any way to talk to me, and a free live chat was better than the phone, I could have him for the whole night.  
Or at least what was the night for him. I sent him to sleep at some point because I could hear he was tired. This treatment seemed to be really hard on him and I was still worried so I wanted him to have some sleep so things wouldn't get worse.

It was time for me to sleep too, when we closed the connexion, it was night for me too now.  
I drifted to dreamland very fast, the tension being relieved, I caught up with all the sleepless nights I had had during the previous weeks. I only woke up at 2pm the next day.

I immediately talked to my mother at breakfast. The face she made... she was horrified.  
"Oh my little fox! That's so horrible! What he's going through just for you, you can't let him do that!"  
I stared at her, I didn't get what she meant. Ok, I wasn't sure I liked the idea, although it would solve our problems of course, but if Mihael wanted to do it, why should I stop him?  
"Honey, do you understand that he will never be the same after that? I'm not talking about gender only, but everything that makes Mihael who he is! You said yourself that he liked being a boy, he can't change his gender just because you could only love him if he was a girl! He may regret it someday, and what if doesn't work out, you two?"  
She was right, and she had voiced everything that was confusedly turning in my head since I had learnt the truth.

I know he didn't want me to feel guilty, but I didn't buy the 'I do it for me, not because of you, I'm clever enough to know what I'm doing and not get influenced by anyone'.  
Feeling guilty, I could ask him to stop. And if I had a responsibility, then it would mean he was indeed doing it because of me, and then, it was saying something about his true motivations, calling into question the nature of the gender change itself. Because I knew he didn't want this change, no matter what he said.  
And asking him to stop something he didn't really wanna do, well... I guess it would be difficult for him to go on with the change. And it would bring us back to the starting point, with no solution to our problem.

But it was obvious we had a bigger problem now.  
I knew I had to make Mihael stop the treatment, and get his ass back here.  
I didn't want him to change. I didn't want to risk that he lost an ounce of his personality, I didn't want him to regret doing this later because he didn't really want it and I was sure of it.  
Damn, who knew what hormones would do to him as a person? It was a serious matter but I couldn't help but tell myself that Mihael under oestrogens, with his temper, was something the world shouldn't experience.  
It dawned on me that more than the change due to hormones on his personality, what could change it the most was regret. Getting rid of his masculinity, since he loved being a man, would more than certainly act on him like depression, hatred of his feminised body, and in the end, he could even hate me for being the catalyst of what he would have done to himself.

I went back to my mother a while later.  
She was of good advice and she would probably help me to find the words to get Mihael to stop this shit.  
We sat on our old couch, and where I expected her to simply say things to me that were true and obvious, the kind of things that you don't think about by yourself, but of which you say afterwards 'Damn! Why didn't I think about that in the first place?', she told me that it was something impossible over the phone, that it was difficult to know whether he would stop or not, and that it was a serious matter that I had to solve in person since I was at the origin of it, that I owed that to Mihael. Not really knowing where this was leading me, I was completely taken aback when she persuaded my father, then made me promise to work with him at the garage as soon as I'd be back, until the beginning of classes for my second year in university, so he could take extra customers to pay for my flight, and had me reserve a flight to Berlin a few hours later.  
I was a bit uneasy, considering my parents' financial situation, but my mother used the fact that I passed my exams brilliantly to convince my father. I don't know why, but she seemed to root for Mihael more than I expected. She looked anxious that I could lose him, almost as much as me...


	30. Chapter 30

_**Note: **Here's your daily dose of TSFMS!_

_Totally unrelated but I adopted two male rats because my old female is well, old, and needs to be left in peace, and I can't find names! So I'm asking for your help!  
Of course, I can't name them Matt and Mello because when they die I'll be devastated..._  
_One is light beige, almost white, with red eyes, the other is agouti (brown, the color of wild rats)__ with black eyes._**  
**_Yes, I'm using an A/N for that XD_**  
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**Mello**  
It was weird to talk on Skype with Mail that day. He knew everything, and yet, he still hadn't told me if he was happy or not. At some point, I was really wanting to know because the treatment was so hard on me, and the change so scaring the shit out of me because I didn't really like what I was becoming that I needed to have the certitude it was worth it.  
A part of me knew, but I was afraid to ask, I could sense it that he wasn't as happy as I thought, naively, that he would be.  
He didn't act like he was not ok with it, actually, we talked about many things unrelated, like new games that he wanted to play with me, that were just released, or a movie that seemed to be nice, or the new album of our favourite band coming soon, and a hypothetical concert they'd give if they toured to promote that album and so on. Each time I brought up the topic, not really on purpose but because I had to be away from my laptop when I needed to throw up or fetched food since I was hungry most of the time, he worried that I didn't feel too bad, sincerely, but he would never say more.

At some point, I felt a bit irritated by the fact he seemed more joyful than usual. Well, not by the fact itself, but when I first thought that it was because he was happy that I was becoming a girl, I quickly realised that he was babbling to avoid many topics and only chatted about random stuff, giving me the impression that he had something making him happy that he didn't want to tell me because it had nothing to do with me, and worse, that I shouldn't know, probably, otherwise he'd have told me, like he always did.

The next day, it was all the same, and he even cut the communication at 9pm my time, so noon for him, because he had to go shopping with his mother, she had insisted he said. I was inwardly disappointed and angry, she was a considerate woman, and always waited later when I went to bed around 4pm Mail's time to ask him for help, I knew she liked me, he had told me, and the several times I've been to Mail's house, his mother had always treated me like a member of the family, sort of, and suddenly shopping wouldn't wait?  
Ok, I was under heavy hormonal treatment, but I had the right to be irritated by this, it had nothing to do with a feminine tantrum.

I was a bit relieved when he asked me if I would be home around noon the next day because he'd be back on Skype later in the night to catch up with me. I didn't have time to ask him about such a long shopping spree that he told me that they were invited for dinner so he wouldn't be back directly after the grocery store. Biggest lie ever. Relief was short.  
But he cut quickly, saying goodbye with a joy I'd gladly would have made him swallow back by the nose, so I didn't have time to argue.

No need to say how much I ate after that. I probably emptied the whole stash of chocolate in my parent's house. And then I felt sick and threw up all night, not only because of overeating, but anxiety did its part too.  
I shouldn't have been gone so long, he had found a girlfriend while I was abroad, or it was just a one night stand but still... it hurt all the same.  
I could almost understand, he hadn't promised me anything, and why would he? We weren't dating, we were just friends, damnit! He had needs and he had been frustrated long enough, he probably couldn't resist anymore.  
But the promise was implied, to me. Hell was I stupid and naive, why would it be implied?  
And since when did I expect anything from anyone?

I had become an emotional wreck because of Mail. It was just not me, and it had begun even before I took that treatment.  
He had an effect on me that was insane, I lived by him, for what he thought and what he did. If he wasn't happy, I wasn't either, away from him I was miserable... Love huh? Nice thing indeed. It sent me back to that one of my ex boyfriends, the one that dumped me because I wasn't exactly like he wanted, and I had done my best to change, to fit his requirements, regretting afterwards that I didn't just kick his bastard ass instead of trying to change what I was.

All I was flew by the window the day I met Mail. I should have understood he'd be a threat to my sanity when his eyes melted me the first time.  
Where was my self insurance? My pride? My temper, even. I was a pussy now (and the pun wasn't even intended). Crying over a relationship that didn't exist, over a decision I made that didn't fit me, over feelings that I couldn't control. Where were those feelings I had when Mail and me hung around together, when everything was still very simple, and that I felt good with him, when I didn't need to act so much because he just took me as I was, pretentious or not, and we had so much fun because we were ourselves.

Now... I didn't even know who I was anymore. I was someone stuck between male and female, my mind wasn't working wisely anymore, I would have been unable to walk down a street proudly, I'd be afraid of people's looks, I wasn't exactly Mail's friend, not his boyfriend either, and certainly not his girlfriend, I was the piece of nothing whose inexistant female hologram he could love, and I wasn't even sure my gender change would work and then?

I spent probably two hours rocking back and forth sat on my bed, unable to go one way or another in my mind.  
The starting line was Mail loving me if I was a girl, the treatment, my decision, and the finishing line was doing what was best for me. In between, there was a gap I was falling into, once reaching the border on the finishing line's side, then stumbling over fear of rejection, will to be with him no matter the cost, be it financial or damage related, for my body, for my mental sanity.

I didn't want to become the monster I was on the way to be. Enough of the treatment, enough of Mail's influence on me.  
Out of the blue, it just became obvious that I was mistreating my body, mind and soul with what I was doing. And as much as I loved Mail, and believe me I did, I hadn't felt so much myself in weeks than I was now, at that precise moment when I took the decision to stop the shit I was doing.  
The idea that my trial at becoming a woman was a total fail, that I hadn't tried enough, that Mail would be mad at me was eating at my resolution, but being back to what I was, and having Mail accept me either as his best friend, either as his boyfriend, but exactly as I was and not as he would be able to love me, was stronger.  
If I did complete the gender change process, he would love a lie anyway, and I wouldn't love myself, which is something I can't accept, nor can I live with.  
And I tried to think that he probably would break up with me as a female, if we ended up together at all, if I wasn't happy with myself. You can't be loved if you don't love yourself, etc etc...  
Fuck, I had been so stupid! I had promised myself after my ex boyfriend did that to me, that I would never ever let anyone influence my judgement on myself, that I would never change for anyone, and that I'd kicked out of my life anyone daring to tell me to change.  
Mail hadn't exactly asked me, even if, with the proper perspective, he hadn't been very smart, to my opinion, to voice clearly that he fantasized on me as a girl only.  
So it was out of the question to throw Mail out of my life, this was something similar to cut my dick, I just couldn't live without.

I stood up, suddenly so full or energy that I had to move, and put my decision into action.

The mistake had cost me a lot, I was thinking, as I threw the remaining pills in the garbage, afraid to go back against my decision to stop.  
But the good side of it was that the side effects would stop quickly now. And I'd be back in the US as soon as I felt better and my voice became more normal. I laughed bitterly. My parents hadn't noticed anything. They wanted me to come back to Germany for the vacations, and yet they were never home.

I went to sleep, and I slept better than I had for days.

The next morning, I woke up around 10am. I showered, and as I was brushing my teeth, I inspected my face in the mirror.  
There was no change in my face. Maybe my cheeks were a bit fuller, but that could as well be because I ate much more than usual. My adam apple was still there, but it had never been very apparent anyway. I rinsed my mouth, and turned around to inspect the rest of my body.  
I was a bit fatter. It wasn't awful, but my abs were less visible, and my thighs rounder. Nothing to declare concerning my hairs. I almost had none before, so you can't lose what you didn't have to begin with. Mail would be delighted, I could hear him make fun of the fact that I already looked like a chick so plus a pair of boobs and minus my dick, it was all the same.  
My voice was the main change actually, but if I did the effort, I could lower it slightly and it almost sounded like before.  
To celebrate that, I began to jerk off in front of the mirror. Fuck, thank you side effects, my dick was unwilling to get up. Sighing loudly, I got dressed in my usual leather, feeling so good being myself (if you didn't look at my belly, because I was way more sexy in that outfit when my abs showed up, instead of that birth of a pneumatic, and if you tried not to listen to the leather creaking in protest around my thighs), inwardly telling Mail to fuck off if he didn't love me as I am because I was fucking awesome.  
Hell, I'd frenchkiss myself if I could right now, as I did a once over myself in the mirror before exiting my room.

I took a walk downtown since I had an hour to kill before Mail would be on Skype, and I needed to think about what I would tell him. I couldn't literally tell him to fuck off, even if that was the main idea. _Hey Mail, I love you to pieces but you can die if you don't accept me as I am_. Perfect.  
I was who I was, and I wanted my one and only to love me for that, not for being the copycat of his wet dreams.  
But unable to wait, I texted him (oestrogens, I tell you). So he'd have time to think about it before coming on Skype. Or I'd get a reply immediately and I would know what he thought about it before I self consumed of anxiety.  
_Hi Mail. I don't believe I can be a chick someday, I'm stopping the treatment, can't stand what I'm becoming... Sorry, I had to make a choice for my own sanity, hope you can understand. It doesn't change anything to the fact that I love you, but you'll have to accept me as a guy or nothing. See you on Skype in a moment._  
It's only once it was sent that I thought that he may not connect to Skype, not accept what I did, and brush me off forever.  
I tried to call him, anxiety getting the best of me, but I had his answering machine immediately. No battery left, or to the least, I hoped so...

At noon exactly, I was already home and connected on Skype for twenty minutes.  
Half an hour later, I was still driving myself crazy with negative ideas, as Mail was still not connected.  
I decided to call him. Reaching out for my cell on my bedside table, I saw a taxi park along the pavement, but my eyes drifted to the small screen of my cell, uncaring for the car.  
It rang this time, on the other side of the line, but although I could hear the sound of the rings in my cell, I could also hear a Mario theme ringing in rhythm coming from the yard in front of my parents' house. That just couldn't be...

**Matt**  
It was so hard to keep my secret! I wanted to surprise Mihael, and not give him time to find excuses or anything, so I didn't tell him about my trip to Berlin. But damn, was I happy!  
I knew it probably sounded weird to him, and I was doing my best to avoid any subject related to us, afraid to give myself away. I hope he didn't take it bad, he sounded quite irritated at some point but the next day it would be forgotten.  
I only made sure he would be home around the time when I would arrive, adding a good hour after my flight would have landed at Berlin's airport to fetch my bag and cross customs and take a cab, that would be bad if he was away when I was under his front porch, if he had one, it was just for the image, ok?  
I was a bit scared to be alone in a country which language was not English, but I guess some people there would speak English, and I had a little book I had bought at the airport before boarding with the basics of German. Although I was pretty sure I would be unable to pronounce anything correctly except the few words I knew from Mihael.

Once out of the airport with my bag in hand, I lit up my cell to text my parents. I had taken a special credit for this trip so I could contact them just in case, you never know what can happen, and my mother wouldn't let her _little fox_ alone with no contact means in a foreign country...  
As soon as it was on, it beeped to announce I had received a text message. Probably my mum testing the service.  
But no, it was Mihael.  
He had sent this message one hour ago but I had my phone off in the plane. Fuck, I didn't expect such a message...  
He confirmed he would be home, which was a relief, but he was also telling me that I could basically forget him if I didn't accept him as a guy, because he didn't want to be a woman.  
I was even more relieved actually. I wouldn't have to convince him to stop, although it was a bit hurtful for my pride that he didn't care anymore for what I thought.  
Ok, _I_ was being egoistical, this time. But my ego deflated quite much.  
But as I reread the message over and over again, a smile crept on my face.  
It had been weeks that, even before he came here, Mihael had changed, leaving the badass blond behind, to someone that I didn't dislike, but that was too far from what had made me fall for him. It was nice to see some emotion in him, but not to the point where he acted according to others the way he did, it was just not him.  
Mihael, the real one, had sent this message, and I loved reading that. I had missed the cocky, overly self assured, temperamental most macho gay I knew and wanted him back.

The taxi parked, and I briefly saw Mihael in front of a window at the first floor but he was turning his back to me and walking away.  
I was a few steps away from his door when my cellphone rang. I checked the ID of the caller, and it was Mihael. But the call ended quickly and I didn't have time to reply. I instinctively looked up and saw him look at me by the open window, then disappear.  
I heard steps running inside of the house, and the door opened violently.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Note:** Here's what you were waiting for, the daily update! A bit later than the previous days but I was on the train this morning, I'm finally back home!_  
_We shall go on with the daily updates after today ^^_  
_The only problem being that I love writing this story so much, I can't accept that it will have to end at some point :(_

_I still haven't decided for a name for my rats, but thanks for your suggestions!_

_Many of you said in reviews how much your feelings were influenced by this story, and believe me, that's the best reward an author can get! Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, I'm so happy to be able to share what I feel with you!_**  
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**Matt**  
You know, I almost wished that when I would see him, the separation, the fact he had done so much to try to change, that he had put his health in danger, everything would have made me forget what forbade me to love him as a guy, in short, that I would finally turn gay. But I guess this happen only in fanfiction, right?  
I have to admit that I was extremely happy to see him, that I wanted to hug him, to prove him I was still there for him, and my stomach filled with butterflies was a proof that it made something to me to see him. But I still didn't want to rape him on his door mat, where he stood, speechless. I bet he didn't expect me here.

**Mello**  
I was hallucinating. What was Mail doing here? How did he find the money for the flight? I hope he hadn't sold his car or something as stupid as that. Had he gotten my text message? Was he still hoping I'd be a girl soon?  
I didn't know what to ask first, so I settled for: "Mail! Wha... how... you... the fuck?"  
So very smart and badass, right?  
He looked at me and there was that cocky smile on his lips, amusement in his eyes, and he reminded me of the first time I saw him, in the amphitheatre. I melted all the same under his gaze.

And he hugged me. I guess that replied to some of my questions. And it broke my heart. Because being far away from him helped concerning my resolutions, but sticking to who I am, knowing full well that he's not gay, and that I won't be his lover, is pure torture now that he's got his arms around my neck and that I can smell his skin, shampoo and smoke. The scent that's solely branded Mail.

"I'm happy that you still love me after what I made you do." He whispered in my ear. I think hormones, female ones I mean, were still kicking, because it brought tears to my eyes.  
I hugged him back, maybe too strongly because he chuckled and said: "Doesn't seem like the treatment removed your manly muscles!"  
I laughed and cried at the same time, not letting him go.  
"I thought I'd never hear of you again when I didn't see you on Skype." I mumbled, head buried in the crook of his neck. To anyone exterior, we'd look like a gay couple, but he didn't seem to mind.  
"I wanted this to be a surprise, so you wouldn't have time to runaway. I couldn't let you do the biggest mistake of your life..." Mail withdrew slightly to look at me, grinning, "But I don't have to convince you to stop the treatment obviously, so I thought that since I was here I'd come to say hello, at least." He winked, acting like he was about to go.  
"You jerk..." I laughed, pulling him to me.  
He burst into laughters too: "Oh yeah, call me sweet little names..."

I led him inside, amused by his priceless face when he saw all the electronics we had here. We got in the kitchen so I could prepare some sandwiches since none of us had eaten yet, and then he gave me a glimpse of a part of him I absolutely love: "Wow, I wish I could offer stuff like these to my mother!", motioning to the dishwasher, electric oven and stuff.  
His mummy's boy side totally turns me to a puddle. I guess it's easy, with a mother like his. I mean, sending your son abroad because his best friend has problems, when you don't have much money... I love this woman, and I'd make sure to thank his parents properly once I'd be back... the word that came to my mind was 'home', and I realised at that precise moment how I felt at home in my apartment there, and not here anymore. Home is where the heart is, it sounds right...

I acted on impulse but I walked the two steps between him and me, grabbed his face in my palms, and kissed him. At the moment my lips touched his I realised what I was doing and told myself he would freak out or at least push me away. He was indeed taken aback, but he didn't move, just smiled to me when I looked at him a bit afraid of his reaction.  
He didn't look repulsed but I didn't push my luck further.  
Once I had filled a plate with enough food for both of us (ok, three of us, I was in EatZilla mode) and fetched drinks in the fridge, we headed upstairs for my room.  
Mail deposited his bag on the floor and took a look around.  
"It looks exactly like your apartment. The decoration I mean." he said.

We sat on my bed while we ate. It was quite strange to have Mail here, it was something I would have never imagined.  
I left the room a few minutes to retrieve the plate to the kitchen and bring some more drinks, but once I was back I resumed glancing at him too often for it to be natural. I just couldn't process his presence here. I loved it, but it was just so unexpected...  
"Hey, I won't vanish, stop looking at me like that!" he laughed.  
"I can't believe that you came all the way from California just to make me stop my treatment..." I replied. God, how I wanted to touch his face, stroke his hair, or just hold him close...  
"I can't believe that you took such a treatment to begin with... I mean, how could you take such a decision in the first place when you knew you didn't really want to be a girl?"  
I guess it was time for a serious talk...

**Matt**  
The look Mihael gave me... I felt so guilty, so bad... He didn't reply to my question but I knew the answer.  
"Mihael, I may say a lot of stupid things in the future, but promise me that you'll never do anything stupid again because of something I would have said."  
He looked at his hands, then at me again. "I promise... I know it was stupid... But I need to ask you, if I had come back in the US as a girl, what would you have done?"  
Fuck. I didn't know the answer to that.  
"I can't reply to that Mihael, I really don't know. I thought that you as a girl would be my ideal, but really, I don't know. I've come to think that your personality would never be the same if you were a girl, so even with the body of a girl, if it's not you inside..."  
He was confused, but somehow, my answer seemed to appease him.  
"There's really no solution for us..." he chuckled sadly.  
"Why should we find one? Why not just be friends and let things go their way? We're focusing on that so much that we can't have fun anymore..."  
He nodded: "You're probably right... we've been through much drama lately, it's better we focus on being happy with what we have I guess."

I wished I could give him more than I did now, because it was hard to see him resigned like this. But it was complicated. I wanted him to act like his usual self, but his usual self was used to get and take what he wanted, and I wasn't able to give him everything he wanted...

"Mail? If I hadn't stopped by myself, what would you have done to make me stop the treatment?" He said out of the blue as I was finishing my cigarette at the window.  
I know he expected a stupid joke from me, from the amusement in his eyes, he was kind of provoking me, probably waiting for a 'I'd have kicked your ass until it bled' or something similar, but the answer to this came to me suddenly, with so much evidence that I pronounced the words without the slightest hesitation, without the slightest fear for consequences.  
"I would have told you that I love you."  
It was true. Guy or not, I loved him. It was platonic but I loved him. Romantically I mean. My feelings were way beyond friendship and I had just realised how deep they ran. My chest constricted because of the force of these feelings. I had never felt anything similar but this time I wasn't looking at Mihael hoping he was a woman, I was looking at the one I loved, hoping I could love his body as much as his mind.  
Mihael stood from the bed and stared at me in shock.  
Then he closed the space between him and me and, inches away from me, he stopped.  
He was refraining his want to kiss me, it was obvious, but I couldn't accept to ruin the moment, his moment. I had harmed him enough until now.  
"What are you waiting for?" I smiled at him, and for a brief instant he looked confused.

Then he grabbed my face in his palms and when his lips touched mines, his left hand reached the back of my head, pressing our mouths together to deepen the kiss, while his other arm pulled me to him, holding me firmly against him. It was totally different from the time I had kissed him in the toilet booth of the club where he worked at.  
This time Mihael was leading the kiss. More than that, he was exploring my mouth with his tongue, caressing mine, gently biting my lower lips, and I could feel all his muscles against me as he held me. I freaked out but I didn't let it show. I didn't want him to stop. Because the reason why I was freaking out was that I liked it.  
It gave me chills, I was totally limp in his arms, unable to do more than reply to the kiss. I knew that it was the real Mihael, the badass, kissing me. He was dominating me, taking what he wanted right now, and giving me just as much. My heart was beating so fast that it echoed in my temples, and when he finally broke the long exchange, I was out of breath, totally stunned.

Even Mihael was surprised by the state I was in when we parted.  
I knew that I wasn't turned on, but damn, I was probably very close to a schoolgirl getting her first real kiss: my legs trembled and my mind was reduced to mash. When I thought he was a good kisser last time, I had seen nothing yet.

**Mello**  
Mail sat back on the windowsill, and I really wondered what was going through his mind.  
He looked knocked out, totally emptied of energy. His cheeks were red, and he was breathing heavily. But I could recognise the expression in his eyes: there was a lot of love, something I had wanted to see for so long, but there was no sexual attraction. Fuck, had I lost my mojo?  
His swollen lips, the way his chest heaved, I wanted so much more... I guess my own expression gave me away because he lit up another cigarette and straightened, his stance declaring hostilities over.

We had a very long talk after that, both ending sat on the floor, with music in the background and cans of drinks scattering little by little around us.  
It was so good to have him here. I had no fear of speaking my heart out. Strangely, it was very easy to voice thoughts that I would have never said otherwise, but my trust in him was stronger than a rock. It was something I had missed in my life, and it was one more thing that Mail was bringing me, one more thing that made it impossible for me to be away from him. He was becoming everything to me, but I wasn't scared, because that was my own choice this time. It wasn't my feelings taking over, it was reason. It was the knowledge that it was the right thing for me, _he _was the right one, and he had proven that I was as important for him than he was for me, so I had no doubts anymore, I wasn't going straight in the wall, this relationship would be the best thing happening to me in my life.

We discussed the fact that I felt a guy, and could never be a girl (and of course, Mail made a duty of reminding me that except my male attributes, I looked like a chick anyway, and that he didn't want to imagine me PMSing, or that I already had the temper of a diva. Thank you Mail...). But it was so nice to have fun with him this way, I couldn't be mad at him, I knew he did it only to tease me like friends do.  
Still, I got him by telling him that if I looked so much like a chick, then he shouldn't have a problem with dating me. He made such a face... sweet revenge...

The conversation slowly drifted to the topic of what we had done while we were separated. It started randomly while we were talking about games we'd like to play together and the fact that Mail had barely played anything since the beginning of vacations, him who was a heavy player, so I had asked him what he had done instead, inwardly wondering if he had dated anyone, though I started to believe that he had finally stuck to this promise I thought was implied between us.

"Actually, I just waited for time to pass... I wasn't up for anything, I got bored with everything, and it's been even worse when you called to say you wouldn't be back when you had planned to. I was so disappointed!"  
I loved hearing that.  
"I even told myself at some point that you had found someone and would never come back."  
So he'd been fearing the same as me.  
"No matter if we're not together, if we're just friends, I'll be faithful to what we don't have." I replied dramatically, the back of my hand on my forehead like a tragedy actor.  
Mail laughed then smiled at me, with that one of his smiles that means 'I'm gonna say something serious even if I don't look like it'  
And indeed. "I hope so, I wouldn't want to have blisters on my left hand for nothing."  
I really love this guy.

It was around 9pm when hunger made my stomach growl.  
I didn't see time pass, talking with Mail. We had so much to catch up with, most of what we chatted about was random, but I think we were both just happy to be together, and so much more lighthearted than the previous days that we enjoyed it fully now.

We picked up all the empty cans scattered on the carpet of my room and went downstairs to have dinner.  
Mail was surprised when he asked about my parents being annoyed by his presence, and that I told him they would probably not come back until saturday, which was four days later.  
I said nothing about the fact that I had only seen them five days since I had come back here, and not even five days in a row. They weren't even there when I arrived, they had called me to say I should get home in a taxi, that they had asked their house employee to fill the fridge and make my bed. They only came home one week later, I wasn't even sure that they were happy to see me, and left two days later. They episodically came back, mostly between their own holidays abroad and several receptions at whatever important place they had to be. It didn't surprise me to the least, I even had been a bit skeptical when they had asked me to come back for the holidays. We weren't the close family kind, and my parents easily beat anyone at the title of unconcerned parents. They thought that as long as they provided money, they were good parents. I had made myself a reason, but I guess that it could be shocking for anyone exterior. Mail didn't need to know that.

We had several guest rooms so he would have the choice where he wanted to sleep. But for now, we needed to eat. I hadn't stopped the treatment for long, but already the side effects had reverted, now I was dizzy and nauseated when my stomach was empty, to the point I could throw up bile.

I cooked a balanced meal, deciding it was time to stop overeating and junk food.  
When I saw Mail grimace in front of the vegetables in his plate, I told him that he would suffer with me because there was no way I kept the fat starting to locate on my abs and thighs.  
He complied and ate without further protest.

Later in my room, as we settled there again, both still not having had our content of small talk.  
I stood up at some point to reach in a drawer of my bedside table, and unwrapped a chocolate bar under Mail's reproaching glare.  
"You make me eat greens and then you eat chocolate?" he pouted.  
"I _need_ chocolate." I replied.  
"Show me."  
"Show you what?" I didn't understand what he wanted to see actually. My chocolate?  
"Where you're fat, I can't see anything except maybe a tiny belly."  
"My face, my thighs, it's obvious!"  
"Doesn't bother me actually."

Mail was really scrutinizing me, and it felt really strange. I was used to being checked out by girls and guys alike, for my particular sense of fashion, or because I was to their likings, or because they had a problem with gays, whatever, but I couldn't tell why he was checking me out like he did. It was very insistant, like if he was looking at every detail of my leather clad anatomy.  
For the first time I felt ashamed of my body. I was inwardly cursing at myself for feeling this way, I had promised myself that I would never let anyone influence my judgement on myself but I didn't like my body right now and I couldn't help it. It wasn't Mail's fault, I didn't like being overweight.  
And he even stated that it didn't bother him, which was kinda strange to me.  
Since we'd been reunited here, we had a habit of talking like we were together, kinda. I guess it had to do with the fact that our strange friendship was of the exclusive kind, with extra feelings of love, platonic from his side, unfortunately.

He stood up and he was still looking close at me when he approached.  
My heart began to beat faster, I didn't know what to expect. And certainly not that he turned around me slowly, his hand following his move, laid on me, from my left thigh, my hip, my ass, to end flat on my stomach.


	32. Chapter 32

_**Note: **__Very late for the daily update but I wrote this chapter late this afternoon and then couldn't log in to FF.  
I so hate the new version of the site, it's annoying for private messages, for review replies, and a lot more. I really don't see what's better with this version._

_Daily updates will go on, I will have time to write tomorrow :)_  
_I didn't proofread this chapter so it's raw, short and probably filled with typos, sorry, I just didn't have time :/_

_BTW, thank you all for your suggestions for rats names! I finally settled for Kane (the light one) and Mysterio (the agouti one) because they wrestle all the time, and Kane is enormous and Mysterio is smaller and very energetic ^^_

* * *

**Mello**  
"I am lucky." Mail stated in the most serious way.  
I could only stare at him, I had his hand laid flat on the bare skin between my top and my pants, and I was turned on. Although my dick wouldn't get up. But for now, I almost thanked the treatment, so I didn't have a hard on poking out of my pants. I was wearing the lowest ones, since I couldn't fit my belly in the others.  
"What?" I articulated at some point, since he was smiling at me, unmoving.  
"I don't know what will happen in the future, but if I have to be physically attracted by a guy although I'm not gay, then I'm lucky you're my..." He stopped.  
He wasn't about to say what I thought he was about to say...?  
"You're perfect Mihael, tiny belly or not." And he encircled my waist with the hand that was on my belly, turning around me once again to hold me from behind. His other arm joined the first, and his chin rested on my shoulder.  
All I could tell myself was that Mail was asking to be raped _right there_, with such words.

I knew, from that moment, that even if it had to be a purely platonic love between him and me, no sex, never, then I would be ok with it. None of my ex boyfriends had been so tender, so loving, not even during sex. And I could live on that stuff, being in his arms, just being held like he was doing now. Of course, I still wished he would want me physically, but I could accept that he'd never want me that way.

**Matt**  
There was progress. I couldn't deny it. And I had hope now. Hope that I could give Mihael what he wanted someday. It would probably take long, but if I was now able to kiss him and like it, to hold him without being repulsed, hell, I even _wanted_ to hold him on my own accord, if I could touch his skin, then why couldn't it progress further?  
I still had doubts because I knew that I would never take bottom, the sole idea of it gave me nausea, and that Mihael didn't take bottom with his ex boyfriends either, and he had clearly told me before that he would never do it. I guess it suited him, he was so dominating, so not gay in his behaviour... Was I really thinking that? Me? I was surprised at what had just crossed my mind, I mean, thinking of Mello as not gay... Of course, it was obvious he was, when I looked at him the first time, I knew. But his temper, he had nothing of a queer. He was a diva sometimes, ok, but not in a girlie way. It could seem so but now that I knew him, I knew that it was only because he was impatient and had difficulties to express his feelings, so he became violent.  
But he never was with me, or at least not anymore. Because he _talked_to me.

It was almost 11pm and I could tell that Mihael was tired. I didn't like how awful he looked. He was still absolutely gorgeous (wow, I never thought I'd use that word concerning a guy) but his eyes had dark circles, his face had a greyish hue instead of that pure baby skin of his, and I decided I'd convince him to sleep now.  
I wasn't tired, my body was still at 2pm US time, but I'd have to get used to the jetlag at some point so it was better for me to try to sleep too.

I was still holding him, perfectly fine where I was, in a comfortable silence, but I could feel him refraining his yawns.  
"Mihael, you should go to sleep, you look awfully tired."  
"I'm fine, it's just the hormones." Mihael didn't want to comply, obviously. I guess he wanted to part from me as much as I wanted: not at all.  
"Please, I don't like to see you like this. Do you want me to tuck you in?" I teased him.  
"It's not exactly what I want..." he turned around, still in my arms, smirking. Instinctively I stiffened. I didn't want to, but I still couldn't take the idea of something sexual. It scared me shitless. "Hey, it's ok, you know I won't push you that way Mail."  
Mihael let me go, feeling that the mood was kinda ruined. I felt so bad for him... I didn't want to be that way with him, it was something I couldn't help, my body still reacted with aversion to the thought of anything more than a hug or a kiss.

"Which room do you want?" He asked me, disappointment painted on his face.  
"Yours." I replied without hesitation. He looked at me surprised, then grinned widely.  
"You're putting me under a lot of pressure you know... We're gonna sleep together without actually sleeping together, how cruel is that?" Mihael grinned even wider, unzipping his leather vest, "But I guess I will have my revenge in a few seconds." His leather pants joined his vest on the floor seconds later, he was now totally naked in front of me, "You didn't forget that I sleep naked, did you?"  
I did...

"I'll take a quick shower if you don't mind, with the plane and all I feel quite in need for a little cleaning." I told him, searching for what I needed it my bag.  
"Sure, feel free to leave your stuff in the bathroom." he gestured toward the door on the other side of the room. Did I mention that every bedroom had its personal bathroom here? And there were at least six rooms for what I knew.

When I was back in the room a few minutes later, a towel around my waist, fresh and clean, Mihael was asleep on the sheets. I wasn't surprised, I even wondered how he had kept his eyes open until now considering how tired he looked.  
Not wanting to wake him by putting the light on to search in my bag (we hadn't lit any lamp on once it had become dark) and unable to find anything in the dark, I had to resign myself to sleep naked. I wasn't really at ease with that but I knew that Mihael wouldn't try anything funny. He would have, months ago, but he wouldn't now.  
I slid under the sheets (since he was over them, we wouldn't touch so it was ok), tugged on the towel to get rid of it and laid on my back, trying to find sleep, listening to Mihael's even breathing.

But as expected, I couldn't find sleep.  
Two hours later, I was still awake. Mihael slept like a rock, he hadn't moved an inch.  
One more hour. Suddenly Mihael jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, and he scared me so much that I almost fell off the bed. Recovering my senses I heard him throw up. I ran to the bathroom. I didn't need to ask to know it was the treatment that was doing this to him. I knelt beside him and held his hair while he emptied his stomach.  
Once he was done, I handed him a glass of water. He looked even more awful than before we went to bed.

**Mello**  
"How do you feel?" Mail asked me softly, caressing my back as I drank the glass of water he had given me.  
"Better..." I hated that he was seeing me in that state, and worse, that he had seen me throw up. I didn't need that to lower my sex appeal toward him, "Sorry, I guess I will need a few days to get rid of the hormones in my system..."  
"Come back to bed, you need to rest."  
"Just gonna brush my teeth, Don't wait for me, you're gonna catch a cold." I winked at him. I was still feeling a bit bad but I couldn't pass the occasion to point at the fact that he was naked and hadn't even thought about it.  
He blushed bright red and went under the sheets quickly.  
I brushed my teeth, splashed my face with some cold water and joined him.  
Mail looked at me worrily.  
"I'm fine, don't worry, it's not that bad." I kissed him on the cheek and pulled the covers over us, "Goodnight!"  
I was refraining to touch him, it was already much that he accepted to sleep naked beside me, and it was mostly because he knew I wouldn't touch him. I didn't want to scare him, if things had to happen, they would happen. But it was very unlikely so it was better I slept without dwelling on that kind of thoughts too much.  
"Goodnight Mihael."  
I felt him turn his back to me and the thought of his ass sent heat to my groin. I would just have to raise the sheet to have a look at it... NO! Sleep, Mihael, SLEEP.  
But still, the sight I had a little earlier, and the memory of when I had jerked him off... I unconsciously began to stroke my cock, realising a few seconds later that I still couldn't be fully hard. It was like being emasculated. And to think I wanted to cut it off...

When I woke up at 9am, Mail was still sleeping. I had heard him toss and turn during the night, the jetlag was obviously doing its little effect on him, and now he was catching back all the sleep he couldn't have during the night.  
I smiled at the sight of his beautiful face sleeping, he looked so innocent without his cocky grin, and those freckles...  
My irish boy... I'd glady conqueer that land... Oh. I could raise it up this morning, obviously.  
I hurried to the shower to solve my little problem, but I couldn't complete the... mission. It was even more frustrating!  
I washed my body and hair, dried myself, dressed with dark blue jeans and a black tee instead of my leather since it was already hot, and tied my hair in a ponytail. Since Mail was still soundly sleeping, I picked up my wallet and went to the pastry store a few streets away to surprise Mail with a breakfast in bed.  
I made some coffee once I was home, extra strong like he liked it, prepared a tray with two cups, the pastries, and a yellow rose I had picked up in my parents' garden.  
I deposited the tray on the bedside table, and proceeded to see if he would wake up or would sleep a bit longer. I didn't particularly stir him from his sleep, but I felt already lonely without him awake.  
But he began to move.

**Matt**  
I heard the click of the door and glass tinkling. I opened an eye to find Mihael sat on the border of the bed, smiling at me, already dressed. I stirred and sat up, jetlag was really hard on me.  
I replied to his smile, thinking of how good he looked. I had come to like the leather, although it was really a bit too much (but it suited him extremely well anyway), but those jeans were flattering, and I didn't see his hair tied like this often, it revealed his nape and...  
"Mihael, come here." I asked him.  
He came closer, and I slid behind him to deposit a kiss on his nape. I felt him shiver.  
"Mmh, you smell of citrus." I loved that smell. Even more now that I would associate it to him...  
I could see happiness in his eyes, and it made me so happy too!

We ate our breakfast, planning the day, but not knowing if Mihael would feel sick at a moment or another, we decided to stay here and just enjoy each other's presence until he would be perfectly fine. It would only be a matter of a few days since he hadn't had any morning nausea today, which bode well.

While we were eating, we heard noise downstairs, but Mihael told me it was only the house employee, not his parents. I guess they would be back later during the day...

Before he retrieved the tray to the kitchen, Mihael handed me the rose that he had used to decorate it. It woke the butterflies in my stomach, strangely, and I blushed (and he laughed). I felt like a schoolgirl again...

Coming back to our old habits, we settled to play Tekken 6. As usual, Mihael played Dragunov, a russian Spetznaz agent who used sambo, and I took Kazuya Mishima. And I beat him each time. No need to describe how much Mihael cursed and how much I laughed.  
During a pause in our numerous virtual fights, as I was smoking at the window and saw a couple walk by, I suddenly wanted more than everything to take Mihael on a date.  
But we weren't dating, so that was a problem. That's when I realised how ambiguous our situation was, and I needed to clarify it with him. He probably wouldn't want to date me as long as I hadn't decided that I like him physically...  
I felt my chest constrict. I had almost said he was my boyfriend yesterday. I had stopped just in time, realising how stupid it was since I couldn't even stand to think of touching his... junk.  
"Mail, what's wrong?" Mihael asked me suddenly. I guess I had let my thoughts show on my face...


	33. Chapter 33

_**Note: **__I know I know, no update yesterday. This chapter was harder to write than I expected, so I prefered to take some more time so things wouldn't be rushed.  
I guess that the events here will make up for the lack of update yesterday ^^  
_

* * *

**Mello**  
I was sat on the windowsill, facing Mail who was dragging on his cigarette and absent mindedly staring outside.  
He looked peaceful, then all of a sudden sorrow crept on his face, and I didn't like it. He did that when he struggled to take a decision, and usually it was a decision that didn't bode well for us. Last time was when he had decided we should not see each other again.  
"Mail, what's wrong?"

He looked at me, apparently coming back from his distant thoughts, and I knew we were up for a serious talk, at the sight of his smileless face.  
"How do you consider us?" Mail asked bluntly.  
I stood and went to sit on the bed, quite taken aback by the question, and he joined me, crushing the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray.

As much as I thought about it, was there really a word to describe our relationship? I hadn't dwelled on the topic until now. I was more of the type that lived things and didn't try to put names on them. Mail always needed answers, words, to be reassured. He had a very analytic mind and was in peace only when he had named and phrased every single feeling or situation.  
"I don't know exactly Mail... you?"  
"I don't know either... or to the least, you may not agree with what I consider."  
Now I was intrigued.  
"I have many questions actually, but it's not the type of questions I'm at ease with, be it to ask them, or to hear the answer..." Mail hesitated, and considering what we had talked about already, until now, it was obvious that the questions were even more personal.  
"I'm ready to reply if you're ready to ask them, you know that nothing will change what I feel for you at this point, so go ahead, don't be afraid." I tried to reassure him, really curious as to what it was all about, because I sensed that it may lead to some changes, like it did each time we explored our views on the situation further.  
It was quite strange to think that I needed to reassure him about my feelings when a few weeks earlier I would have had to reassure him that I would never let my feelings show not to disturb him...

Mail stood up, made a few step, then came back to the window to light another cigarette. He was stressed and still couldn't get it out. Long minutes passed before he began to talk.  
"I still don't know whether I'll be attracted to you physically someday or not. It bothers me and I'm sure that it bothers you even more. I know I like it when we kiss, and I like to hold you or be close to you. I know it's a lot of progress but I still can't feel any sexual attraction to you, so what if it never happens? I mean, can we talk about an exclusive relationship if I can never please you sexually? I wish I could cross this border but..."  
I had to cut him. I stood and faced him, cupping his cheek with my palm.  
"Mail, I don't care about that. It's frustrating, I can't deny it, but I don't give a shit. If that's how our relationship has to be, then it will be platonic, I can live with that. What I can't live without is you so the choice is easily made."  
"But you said it yourself, it's frustrating for you! You have needs and I can't satisfy them, it's just cruel!" His cigarette joined the first in the ashtray and he took in his the hand I had on his face, "Mihael, I don't want you to stick with me in hope of a change from me, because I can't promise it will happen, and then you'd hate me for wasting your best years with me!"  
I was starting to get angry, he didn't get what I was trying to tell him. Did I look so much like a sex freak that he thought I could never live without?  
"Mail, for the second time: I. Don't. Care. These are my best years! With you! I'm not asking you for a promise, things are fine as they are right now! The sex would be an added bonus, but it's not necessary! I've never had anything like this with any of my ex boyfriends, although there was sex, so you can't compare, you bring me so much more that I _know_ I can accept our relationship as it is now!"  
"You're crushing my hand Mihael." Mail smiled suddenly, and I realised I had been, indeed, holding his hand so tightly that his fingers had turned white, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you angry, I'm just so confused about all this..."  
"I know..." I replied, kissing his palm.  
I kept his hand in mine while he lit up another cigarette, telling myself that I should get him to stop someday because he really was a heavy smoker. What had always intrigued me was that he put the little money he had from his little jobs in buying cigarettes although he could have bought a lot more games if he stopped smoking.

"So, this is platonic love, if you wanted a definition." I told him after a while, hoping he had cleared his mind a bit after this animated verbal exchange and a few cigarettes.  
"Yeah..." he mumbled, getting rid of his cigarette butt, exhaling smoke by his nostrils. Apparently not.  
"What bothers you? Tell me, I can see it's not over in your head." I had missed something, yet I couldn't tell why, I thought things were clarified.  
"Mihael... will you find it strange that I ask you on a date?" I opened wide eyes. Fuck, I didn't expect that at all! I was usually the one to push things that way... "I mean...", he added when I didn't reply, unable to form a coherent sentence, "...a date as boyfriends, officially, when we'll be back in LA."  
I continued to stare at him, but I would have to reply at some point because he looked anxious in front of my silence, even if I was grinning like an idiot.

**Matt**  
Shit. I finally said it. And Mihael was staring at me like a goldfish lacking air, but a goldfish with a huge smile. It was obvious that he agreed and that it made him happy but a verbal confirmation would have been nice, because I felt a bit anxious still.  
Knowing Mihael, I should have known he would _show_ me how happy he was, instead of saying it.  
He pulled me in his arms and kissed me like he did the previous time, with all the strength and the passion and all his attitude, I think a puppy would have peed all over himself with such a kiss. Ok, not the best image but you get the point. I was reduced to a puddle in his arms, holding on to his shoulders, his arms around my waist like an iron grip, but there was no chance that I went anywhere, I would not runaway from such a kiss god. We parted and looked at each other, I think we were both knocked out by the intensity of what we just shared. All I could do was smile, and I was sure I looked like an idiot with a satisfied grin. I felt like my cheeks were on fire, and those ice blue eyes on me didn't help, I was very self conscious at that moment.

"I'm happy that no girl could get a grip on you." Mihael stated, caressing my back, as I was still in his arms, "Though I understand that they couldn't resist you. And I like you better without the goggles." He added, kissing the tip of my nose.  
I realised that I hadn't worn my goggles since I had arrived here. I didn't need to shield my eyes anymore.  
"I don't need them anymore, my eyes are taken now."  
Mihael chuckled, I could see that he was pleased by my answer, "Not only the eyes _mein Süsser_, I'm claiming the whole of you."  
I didn't need a translation to understand he was calling me a sweet name, and it sent much more heat to my cheeks. I was probably as red as a tomato right now. I guess I could get even redder than that when heat took over my whole face as Mihael began to kiss my neck, and the skin behind my ear. It was a bit strange, but not unpleasant.  
Since I didn't push him away, he grew bolder and sucked on my earlobe. I moaned.  
He withrew slightly, and stopped, looking annoyed. It's only when he let go of me completely that I understood the problem: there was a buldge forming in his jeans.

"Hmm... sorry Mail, I... you... turn me on so... I'm gonna stop here before I push you too far." Mihael said, grabbing a chocolate bar in his drawer and unwrapping it quickly before biting a large chunk of it. I lit a cigarette, each one his habit...  
I wasn't turned on, but still, I was sad that he had stopped. The situation was quite complicated, more than I thought initially: he would stop whenever he began to be turned on, so he didn't push me further than I wanted in his excitement, but how would I known how far we could go if he didn't push things further?  
"Good news is the effects of the treatment seem totally gone now." Mihael smirked.  
"Oh?" We hadn't talked about that particular aspect so I didn't know.  
"Female hormones lessen the libido, and for a few days I really felt like a fucking chick, without a dick..."  
"Oh?" I repeated. I wasn't sure I wanted those details.  
"Hey, don't make such a face, you have a dick too, you know what it is!" Mihael laughed out loud at my expression.  
"To tell the truth, I feel a bit like this too now. I'm not turned on by girls anymore, I'm not attracted to you that way, and to think I was a horny rabbit before..." I sighed.  
"I'm sure you should stop smoking, and eat vegetables, and get some exercise and..." Mihael teased me, but I cut him by grabbing him and putting my hand on his mouth: "Don't say horrors like these!" I feinted indignation, laughing.

"Talking about vegetables, I'm hungry." he said, walking to the door, "What about ordering chinese?"  
"Fine." I was hungry too, actually, and at least chinese would mean no vegetables, or at least they would be drown in sweet sauce.  
Half an hour later, we invaded the living room with our cartons of food and sat in front of the TV.  
It was strange to hear The Simpsons in german. I could get a word from time to time but that was about all.  
The house was so silent except the TV, I wondered when Mihael's parents would show up.

We cleaned our cartons and headed back to Mihael's room. It was already dark outside, but the air was cool.  
"Why do you want to wait to be back in LA to go out for a date?" Mihael asked me, his chin on my shoulder, arms around my waist from behind, as I was smoking (again) at the window.  
"I don't know the place here, so it will be easier in an english speaking country." I chuckled. I don't think I could manage a nice date here with my marvelous non existant german skills, "And I have my idea as to where I'll take you."  
"I could understand this the wrong way..." Mihael nuzzled my earlobe with his nose.  
"Right. And I'm not even freaking out." I laughed.  
"I'm proud of you Liebling." I think I quite like those sweet names in german. I could almost find them sexy, "And I'm impatient to see what you have in mind."

We played some more Tekken, and went to bed late in the night, when Mihael got tired of the game (understand: when Mihael got tired of losing).  
Since I had slept naked the night before, I could as well continue, so when I slid under the sheets, Mihael opened wide eyes.  
"I can put my pyjamas on if you prefer." I told him.  
"NO!" he all but shouted. It was hilarious.  
We laid on our back side by side, and talked about unimportant stuff. For some reason, Mihael couldn't sleep. I couldn't either, but I was still under the jetlag influence. Something bothered him, otherwise he would have fallen asleep already, since he was really tired.  
After a few minutes, he turned to me and encircled my waist with an arm, his head resting on my shoulder. I slid an arm around him, kissing the top of his head. I was concerned by the fact that we were both naked, but I didn't want it to ruin this moment.  
I felt Mihael's hand wander on my stomach, then his index softly tracing from my navel to my chest. My heart began to beat so fast that I had to breathe to calm down. It was nothing, I told myself, he had the right to touch me, I'm his boyfriend after all.  
His hand laid flat on my throat.  
"You're freaking out." he said suddenly, "I can feel your heartbeat."  
"I'm fine." I didn't want him to feel bad and stop. It wasn't that unpleasant, actually, what made me freak out was to imagine where this could lead, but we could touch each other without a dick ending up in one's ass. I couldn't fuck a guy, and I couldn't even imagine to take it myself. But if I skipped those thoughts, then I was ok. So I erased them from my mind, and to prove my point, I grabbed his chin and kissed him. He crawled up to deepen the kiss, and soon we were chest against chest.

Slowly, the kiss became more needy, I could feel Mihael eager through his moves. He was biting my lower lip softly, then his mouth travelled to my neck, where he nipped and licked, reaching my earlobe, then coming back to my neck, down to my chest.  
I didn't need to see his face to know what he wanted. He was sexually frustrated and it was difficult to stop now. I know he would stop if I asked him, but it broke my heart to ruin this moment. He was so patient with me, although he was more of the impatient kind, I knew him enough to understand how much he took on himself. I felt like it was now time for me to take on myself.

Reaching between us, I hesitantly touched his dick with the tip of my fingers. I couldn't believe I was doing that. And that he was already so hard.  
Fuck, I'd better not think of it...  
Mihael was hovering above me, straightening on his arms, as I began to stroke him lightly.  
"Mmh... Mail... are you sure?" he whispered, puzzled as to what I was doing.  
"Let me touch you Mihael, I wanna do it." I pulled him to me so he was on his side against me, my arm around his shoulder while I grabbed his cock with my free hand.  
His head was on my chest, and his breathing became quickly heavier, as I did my best to do for him what I would do with my own dick. At least I didn't have to wonder what I had to do.  
I applied more pressure, speeding the movement, and my hand became slick. Precum. That wasn't dirty, that was Mihael.

He was moaning softly, and I was now interested in knowing what Mihael sounded like when he orgasmed. Yes, I was so in love that I wanted to know that too, and I wasn't even disgusted. Oh, he had already come near me, the day he had jerked me off, but I had realised he had jerked himself off too only when I had come down from my high, so I hadn't heard anything...

He was tensing now, his breathing becoming quicker, and he came on my thigh, a throaty moan escaping him. I had cum on me. That wasn't mine. Another guy's cum. Of course, it couldn't be a girl's.  
I was being stupid, and I realised it when Mihael looked at me with clouded, but loving eyes. I think that 'loving' was an understatement, actually, and the look he was setting on me erased the strange feeling of having cum on me. I couldn't care less when I had a gorgeous blond with dishevelled hair staring at me with adoration. Mihael is so beautiful... and I had been able to make him look like this, which made me quite proud.

So when he started withdrawing from me, I held him strong so he didn't go away.  
"Stay." I murmured, kissing his temple.  
"You don't wanna clean up?" he asked, surprised, more by the fact I wasn't disturbed by the situation, than by the fact I was unwilling to clean up.  
I grabbed the towel that I had forgotten beside the bed the day before and wiped my thigh clean.  
"Done. Don't think I'll let you runaway, I like you right where you are."  
He replied by a content sigh and snuggled against me. I suddenly felt extremely tired, and felt myself drift to dreamland.

**Mello**  
I couldn't believe what he did. I had checked, squinting my eyes to see in the dark, and he wasn't hard himself, so I knew that he had done it for me, only for me, like I suspected, taking on himself. And he hadn't ruined the mood even after I came, he just held me in his arms. What I was feeling was beyond words, I was in love, grateful, satisfied, blissful, whatever, I didn't know a word that expressed it all together. And although Mail had done that even if himself wasn't turned on at all, I couldn't help but hope we could do more someday. I shouldn't think about that, but I wanted him so badly... but that was probably more than I could have expected anyway.

I was beginning to fall asleep, now totally drained (pun intended). Just before I slept for good, I heard Mail's sleepy voice as he held me closer.  
"Goodnight angel..."


	34. Chapter 34

_**Note: **Kari Twilight Mist, you read my mind XD_  
_There are a few sentences in German, my skills are a bit rusty so I hope there aren't too many mistakes. Translation follows each sentence so you don't have to scroll down the chapter to understand.  
**Edit: thank you, anonymous reviewer, for correcting my german sentences! My German's too scholar and old I guess XD**  
_

_We're close to the end, sadly, I don't think there are even 5 chapters remaining... That's sad..._

_I won't be able to update tomorrow, I will lack time since I have an appointment in the morning (to sign the papers for the official end of my contract, yay!), and I'm going to see Iron Maiden live in the evening (and won't be home in the meanwhile)._

* * *

**Matt**  
"MIHAEL!"  
I jumped ten miles high, violently stirred from my sleep. So did Mihael, who stared at me, sitting in the bed, apparently not awake enough to register that I wasn't the one screaming his name. No, I didn't have a woman's voice.  
"Was ist hier los? Seit wann machst du diese Dinge unter unserem Dach?" ("What's happening here? Since when do you do that kind of things under our roof?") The woman was still screaming, coming close to the bed, then deciding to go back to the door, as I tried to cover myself with the sheets.  
"Karl! Komm herauf! Dein Sohn hat mit jemandem in deinem Haus geschlafen!" ("Karl! Come upstairs! Your son has slept with someone in your own house!) The woman was hysterical.  
"Mutti!" (Mum!) Mihael complained, grabbing his pants and putting them on quickly.  
So it was his mother. It was one of the few words I could understand. He looked nothing like her. She had chestnut hair and dark eyes, and she was petite and very curvy.  
I still couldn't resolve myself to get out of bed but Mihael came to my help, seeing my worried gaze over the room to spot my pants, and he gave them to me. I slid them on, wiggling under the sheets, and finally got up, just as heavy steps resounded in the stairs.  
I didn't need a hint to guess that it was Mihael's father showing up. Blond, piercing ice blue eyes, and I knew immediately where Mihael's scary side came from. I was terrified, when his eyes set on me, but even more when they drifted to Mihael. My father, even in his biggest fit of anger, when I had really, really fucked up, had never looked at me this way. I felt awful for Mihael, and I made a step toward him instinctively, but I stopped cold when I saw his expression.

Mihael was standing straight, his stance was extremely defensive, and his face showed defiance. But most of all, I could see fear in his eyes. As his father made a step forward, he walked and put himself between his father and me.  
Now I had a perfect and close view on their staring contest. Until Mihael's father slapped him. Hard.  
I was glued to the floor, shocked, unable to move, or say something. I could just feel my eyes sting like hell.  
"Kleiner Scheißer! Wie kannst du nur..?" ("You little shit! How could you...?") His father was infuriated, "Du! Raus hier! Verschwinde aus meinem Haus!" ("You! Out! Get out of my house you little bitch!) he spat at me, pointing at the door. I didn't need a translation to understand he wanted me out.  
"Nein! Mail you're not going anywhere! Vatti, es ist mein fester Freund, den du da beleidigst!" ("No! - Dad, it's my boyfriend you're insulting!")

It was horrible. I didn't understand everything, and I couldn't go anywhere, nor could I help Mihael.  
"Mihael, spricht er nicht Deutsch?"("Mihael, doesn't he speak german?") Mihael's mother asked him, pointing at me with her chin with disdain.  
"No, he doesn't speak german." Mihael replied, coming to me and taking my hand, "And he's my boyfriend, not... what you said." he added, still staring defiantly at his father. I could guess by Mihael's last words that his father had called me something unpleasant.

Mihael tried not to show how hurt he was by the slap he had just gotten, but his cheek was red and swollen. His father was by no means a twig like his son, he was very tall and large, like a man that practice a lot of sport. I imagined him playing squash, tennis and stuff rich people do.

The silence was uncomfortable.  
"Mihael, do you want me to go outside while you talk to your parents?" I asked, nit exactly knowing what I should do with myself, although I didn't want to leave Mihael alone with them.  
"No, stay. We did nothing bad." He replied, but his parents obviously didn't think the same.

"Mihael, wir haben schon viel hingenommen, was dich betrifft, aber wir haben es schon oft genug klar gemacht, das wir so ein offensichtliches Verhalten nicht unter unserem Dach wollen!" ("Mihael, we have accepted a lot from you already, but we had always made it clear that we didn't want any obvious behaviour under our roof!")  
"Viel hingenommen?" ("accepted a lot?") Have you ever accepted a single inch of what I am? Can you honestly say that you weren't relieved that I left for the US, so you wouldn't have your gay son under the nose of your many friends and collaborators?" Mihael's temper was flaring, and in the middle of this shit, I couldn't help but think how badass he looked, in leather pants, bare chest, eyes wild and mouth twisting in anger. Of all moments, my dick decided NOW that Mihael was worth raising up.  
It was just too awesome. I had difficulties to hide the grin creeping on my face, I needed to tell Mihael. But it was the worst moment ever.

Mihael spoke in english so I could follow what was going on between his parents and him.  
"Wie kannst du nur, Mihael!"("How can you, Mihael!") his mother said for the second time.  
"Wir haben alles für dich getan und so willst du uns danken? Indem du diese kleine Hure in mein Haus bringst?" ("We did everything for you, and this is how you thank us? You bring that little whore in my house?") Obviously, his parents didn't give a shit about me since they continued speaking german. It was humiliating.  
"Stop insulting him!" Mihael shouted, "And don't try to lecture me! Why did you want me to come back? I've barely seen you four or five days since I'm back, you're always gone! You don't give a fuck about me, all you care about is that I could ruin your reputation, so why wanting me back? At least in LA I have someone that cares for me, and he even came here all the way just for me. You never came to visit me once in LA!"  
Mihael was fighting back tears, I could see his eyes shining, and now I was understanding everything he was. Everything that had made him this way, the way he shielded himself from people's advice, the confidence he had, that he was forced to build by himself because the ones that should have given him this confidence had worked against him. There was nothing worse than parents ashamed of their child...  
But most of all, I understood the origin of his temper. Once you're biten that hard, you bite back, all the time.  
Shit, I loved him so much... Mihael was amazing. He had made of himself someone good, someone brilliant, someone independent, alone, without any support. He was the strongest person I knew. And all of this being gay, with all the problems it brought: homophobia, name callings, repulsion, fights...

And I was one of those people, the homophobic ones I mean, one of those that made his life difficult, and he had even managed to change me. Who can do that, if not a very special person?

They were verbally fighting, but all I could see was Mihael. My Mihael, with tears threatening to fall, because as strong as someone can be, there are things that still hurt, and seeing his parents treating us the way they did, when he was trying to tell them we were in love, and that he was happy with me, and they didn't care, it was just going too far.

I grabbed my bag, took all my stuff scattered around the room and in the bathroom. Mihael looked at me in horror.  
So I walked to him and kissed him softly.  
"Don't worry, I'm not leaving without you. Pack your bags, I'm taking you where you belong." I said, then I turned to his parents. "I'm sorry that you can't accept us as a couple, I wish you could see beyond your narrow mind and realise the amazing son you have, and be happy for him. I don't think there's a way out of this situation right now between you and him, so I'm taking him home because I won't let anyone hurt him. I just hope that someday you can see the mistake you're doing, and that day, you'll be welcome to visit us."  
"You're a bit too presumptuous young man." His father replied to me. Oh, English, finally. And 'young man', not an insult this time?  
"What do you know about us? And how dare you talking to us this way?" Fuck, how annoying she was to scream like that all the time!  
"I know that you see him as your gay son, but that he's only the child you gave birth to... You're very lucky because Mihael only sees you as his parents, not the parents he's ashamed of because they're rejecting him."  
Mrs Keehl stared at me mouth hanging open, but I could tell that his father was touched by what I had just said.

I turned around and zipped my bag closed then finished getting dressed. Mihael had been standing silent, observing the scene all along, and tears were really falling now as he looked at his parents, then me, then them again.  
His mother stormed out of the room and downstairs, still squealing in German. I went to Mihael, unable to let him cry like this, and he rushed into my arms, sobs beginning to escape him. It was no use to try to soothe him, he needed to cry for good to get rid of the emotional peak. Mr Keehl looked at Mihael, sighed and left without a sound, closing the door behind him.

I helped Mihael pack. Fortunately he hadn't taken much since he was supposed to go back to his apartment in LA so we were done one hour later, after we got a quick shower.  
He stayed silent but I knew he was still emotionally charged so I didn't try to push him to talk.

We went downstairs with our bags, and as Mihael picked up a few of his stuff remaining in the living room, his father approached him. His mother was nowhere in sight.  
"Mihael..." he began ,"Deine Mutter fühlt sich nicht gut, aber sie sagt auf Wiedersehen.." ("Mihael... Your mother feels sick but she says goodbye to you") he handed a bundle of bills to Mihael. I wasn't used to Euros but there were at least ten bills of 500 Euros. I really couldn't get used to that much money, it was obvious everywhere in the house, and still, they weren't happy... I wasn't so much disappointed that I couldn't offer so many stuff to my parents suddenly.  
"I don't need your money." Mihael mumbled, closing the bag he was stuffing, and turning his back to his father.

I saw in Mr Keehl's eyes that he regretted what had happened. But money wasn't the solution, and this, I wasn't sure he could understand for now. For what I knew, his parents had always paid everything to him, except for the motorbike that he was paying himself because it was something he had bought on impulse, but Mihael, even if he didn't talk about them often, had hinted that they provided money like other parents provide affection.

I was seeing the extent of it now, and I wasn't happy. But Mihael had always stated he wasn't unhappy with his parents, that they didn't really like that he was gay, but that they were quite a happy family despite the fact that even when he lived here in Berlin, they didn't have family dinner and stuff, they were often out at official receptions and work dinners. So I was a bit puzzled as to why they had reacted so violently if they had never treated him bad before concerning his homosexuality. Ok, finding your son with another guy naked in bed is unpleasant, I guess, but it had gone too far to be a normal reaction from them according to what Mihael had told about them to me.  
But it wasn't the best time to ask at the moment.

We walked to the corner of the street and Mihael spotted a taxi driving our way so he waved to stop him.  
Once sat inside, Mihael asked to go to the airport. A few streets further, he apparently changed his mind because he asked the driver to take us to "Kempi". I wondered what it was.  
I knew a few minutes later, though, as we parked in front of the Kempinski Bristol hotel. Five stars, no less.  
I looked at Mihael but he just smiled to me before exiting the taxi.  
I followed him, we grabbed our bags and headed for the reception of the hotel. I was a bit uneasy when we entered the large hall, I felt so out of place here with my jeans and stripped shirt. But I wasn't the one to bring attention, all eyes drifted to Mihael in his usual leather.  
"Are you sure?" I asked Mihael. He smirked.  
Totally at ease, he approached the guy behind the counter and they exchanged a few words in German, and I saw the man's expression become much more friendly when Mihael pulled his Gold credit card out of his wallet.

The guy at the reception had given his card back to Mihael for less than two seconds that two men posted behind the desk came to us hurriedly and grabbed our bags, preceding us to the elevator.  
Mihael made a pleasure to take my hand and visually annoy the people sat in the lobby that had been staring at us since we had arrived. The provocative bastard was back and it made me laugh.

Once in the room, wow.  
It was bigger than my parents' apartment, without even counting the terrasse residing behind a huge glass wall.  
I wonder how many people could sleep in such a large bed, everything seems to have been created for giants. The bathtub would be a shame for environment protection associations with how much water it could contain, and the whole bathroom was made of marble, and there was a creamy white carpet on the floor, so thick it was like walking on a cloud, and there was a huge oak desk with assorted furniture, a living room, fruits, champagne, chocolates... damn, Mihael was crazy.  
I turned to him, he was giving the guys a tip. Then they closed the door, bowing.

"Mihael, is it really reasonable?" I asked him, as he came to me and took me in his arms.  
"No, but what would be life if we were always reasonable?" he pecked my lips, "If you're worried about the financial aspect, I can afford it, don't worry. And I always tend to spend a lot of money when I'm emotionally shaken. See this as my therapy." he grinned, toying with a strand of my hair.  
"Well, if it's for the sake of your sanity, I will take on myself and try to get along with it." I chuckled, looking around, still amazed by the place.

**Mello**  
I know Mail wasn't used to such luxury, and I was happy to spend some time here with him. I wanted to go back to LA as fast as possible but I suddenly realised that he hadn't seen anything of Berlin, and that was really stupid to leave without visiting a bit, he might never come back here. Hell, I didn't even know if I'd be back myself.

"I think I'm gonna be unable to resist these chocolates any longer!" I laughed, kissing Mail on the cheek before picking up the red box on the table.  
This was the best hotel in the city, and the view we had from our room was splendid. Mail was outside, on the terrasse, lighting a cigarette, and I joined him while taking small bites of the chocolates, the box in one hand.  
We sat at a table.

"I really like it here, but I'm pretty sure I could have made you feel better with what I have to tell you." Mail suddenly said, grinning.  
"Oh, really?" I smiled. What could be better than being here with Mail and chocolates? Except Mail, chocolates and _sex_? Oh...  
"I... when we were still in your room... you were arguing with your father and you looked so frightening... and you were... shirtless... and the leather..." I could see where he was going although I hardly believed it, afraid to misunderstand what he obviously had difficulties to say. "Oh shit!" Mail crushed his cigarette, stood up and took my hand, pulling me inside, to the bed.  
He unzipped my vest, pushing it off my shoulders, then got rid of his own top.  
My heart was hammering in my chest. Was he really wanting this?

Mail pushed me on the bed and climbed on top of me, kissing me feverishly. He was the one out of word for once, and had decided to show me what he meant to say.  
His lips trailed from my lips to my ear, that he nipped, before sucking on my neck. Then he slowly descended until he was practically devouring my chest.  
"Ah! Mmh!" I moaned loudly as he tentatively licked one of my nipples. God, it felt a thousand times better than in my wet dreams. I could feel him sucking on it, then biting softly, and it made me hard in no time.  
What surprised me was that I could feel he was hard too.  
Would we really...?

Mail went lower, kissing everywhere he could reach, his tongue plunging in my navel, making me moan louder. He licked along the hem of my pants, and oh God, I hoped he wouldn't stop here because I would cry otherwise.  
But when I felt his fingers unfasten the laces of my pants, I became even harder, it was almost painful.  
Opening the laces completely, he pulled my erection out, and crawled up to kiss me.  
Resting on one elbow, still on top of me, he reached for his jeans buttons and undid them, setting his own member free.  
I peaked between us, and seeing our dicks rub together almost made me come straight away. I had waited for something like that for so long that excitement was on top level.

Mail grabbed both our cocks in his hand, and began jerking us off.  
I understood that it was as far as he could go right now, but fuck, I wouldn't complain!  
He seemed to read in my mind because he said "I'm sorry, I'm not ready to go further than that for now, but I want you Mihael, I really want you..."  
It wasn't a matter of attraction anymore, the only thing that could stop him now, I imagined, was fear.

The contact was amazing, making me come very fast. I softly pushed Mail on the bed once I came back from my high, and settled between his thighs.  
"Will you let me?" I asked, hovering above his still erected dick.  
"Yes..." he whispered, and there was no doubts that he wanted this. The lust was here, and my heart almost exploded that it was me he was lusting over.  
I took his member in my mouth, going as deep as possible, then withdrawing, tasting precum on the tip, then engulfing half the length, sucking and bobbing my head faster and faster, delighted by his moans of pleasure.  
Mail wasn't long to come either. And he said my name when he came... if I had any doubts, it was erasing everything. Mail wanted me physically, and it made me in peace with my body for good.

I licked every drop of semen off Mail, before lying beside him. I waited that he came back on earth, kissing his shoulder. He turned his head to look at me, and smiled.  
"What about splashing that beautiful marble with a bath together?" he proposed, pecking my nose before jumping off the bed and heading for the bathroom.  
Seconds later, I was fully naked, pulling on his jeans, making him lose his balance as he tried to manipulate the taps, sending water on me with his hand, both laughing.


	35. Chapter 35

**_Note:_**_ I guess this is the last thing you expected, an update! It took me time but I'm finally back, I just had a lot going on IRL and it was bugging me too much for me to be able to settle down and write. I wrote, but I just couldn't get anything as I wanted to so this chapter stayed half written, I had also a oneshot almost finished but that I couldn't end either, so it was kind of my personal hell. Not being able to write is a nightmare for me, but I guess you writers understand._  
_Updates will be more regular now, with the good news that all this time I took made me realise that something was wrong with what I had planned for the last chapters of this fic, so instead of something like 5 chapters, we probably are close to 10/15 chapters more. Still quite some time to share this fic together! Believe me, all your reviews are awesome, and I love being able to feel that close to my readers :)_

_As usual, a shameless self ad: Yesterday I posted the oneshot stated above since I finally could finish it, it's **'Playing fair'** and it's in my stories list. It's very different from what I usually write so your impressions about it are welcome._**  
**

* * *

**Matt  
**We were sat in the bathtub, hot water running to fill all we had splashed around the bathroom, foam forming around us as Mihael poured some more liquid. The poor groom that would have to clean that mess we made...  
But it had been a lot of fun, and now we were just enjoying the calm after the storm, relieved of some sexual tension and overall lulled into a comforting atmosphere made of the iodin scent of the bath bubbles, the dampness and heat building in the bathroom and each other's presence.  
We lathered each other with shampoo and soap, and splashed the marble some more while rinsing ourselves, before we just laid there, content.

At some point, the silence became Mihael's refuge and I knew, looking at him, that he wasn't just enjoying the moment anymore, something was bugging him. He was lost in his thoughts, absent mindedly playing with the foam.  
I touched his knee to bring him back to reality.  
"What's wrong?" I asked, starting to get worried.

Mihael sighed and smiled.  
"I was just thinking about my parents... I never had a confrontation with them about my sexual orientation. I knew they didn't approve but still, they had never been hostile. I know it's stupid, I live away from them all year long, it shouldn't bother me that they avoided me or didn't approve of my choices..."  
"They're still your parents, and you care because you love them, there's nothing stupid about that." I replied. I didn't like what had happened, but it had made me understand a lot about Mihael and his background.  
He was alone, all the time. Not only physically but morally. His parents had never accepted him as he was, he didn't have a family to rely on like I have, he was in a constant fight to have the right to be himself.  
It wasn't fair, he was judged _all the fucking time_! I wasn't proud that I had been part of this myself, just happy I was over with those stupid prejudices.

"I know... I just wish they'd just get over it, they gave birth to me, they made me what I am, it's not my fault..." Mihael shivered.  
I rose and got out of the water, Mihael following me. I quickly grabbed a towel and proceeded to dry him. He suddenly snuggled against me, burying his face in my shoulder. I held him close.  
My strong, badass Mihael was breaking down. He was tired of fighting, and for once, he allowed himself to let his guard off completely, to rely on someone else, now that he had someone else to rely on.  
But there was one thing I knew, it was not to point it out to him.  
In other times I would have made fun of him, but right now the least I wanted was to hurt his pride.  
So I simply waited for him to be able to get a hold of himself, stroking his damp hair and making sure he wasn't too cold by encircling my arms around him.

**Mello**  
I had never felt like this. It was beyond being in love. I had been in love, deeply, with one of my exes, but never had I felt this way. My heart was breaking for what my parents had done. It had never reached this point, but I clearly saw that they had let out everything that had built up since they had known I was homosexual. The anger, the pain, the rejection, but worst of all, the disappointment. My parents didn't love me enough to go past the fact I wasn't like they expected, and it was tearing me apart. I had always known, but somehow they coped with it so it wasn't so bad, especially since I had moved to LA. But being back to Berlin, in my old room, my old life, had made me understand that the new me from LA didn't fit in the old berliner place where the old me had lived.  
I had grown up, had found my place, could be myself fully, and had even found true love. Because I was sure it was. I had no doubt about Mail, as strange as the situation was. He had made all the way from rejective homophobic to loving gay boyfriend, and that was quite something. Well, gay, I couldn't really tell, I still felt him like straight, as weird as it was since we had had some sexual activities together.

But right now I couldn't help the tears rolling on my face, and the need to hold on to him, the sick feeling in my gut that there would always be someone to reject who I was, that nothing could just be neuter.  
No one gives a fuck about heterosexual people and what they are/do, but it would never happen with me, there would always be a bug in my life flying annoyingly around me, reminding me that I was different and that I had to have a finger pointed at me for it.

I shivered from the cold, and realised that Mail hadn't moved, holding me and stroking my back all along.  
He hadn't said a word, he had just waited for me to calm down, and where I expected him to make some comment about my behaviour, he just kissed me sweetly and pulled me to the bedroom so we could get dressed.  
Once we had our clothes on he prepared two coffees with the Nespresso machine, fighting with it a little while (I guess he didn't have one at home, those were quite expensive), and brought one to me along with the chocolate box.  
He was around me like a mother goose now, taking care of me, and chatting about nothings to keep the conversation light and comfortable. He was adorable, and I loved being treated this way... it was unusual for me.  
I guess his mother had given him a good example.

"Mail, you should bring something back from Berlin to your parents, shouldn't you?" I suddenly offered.  
Thinking about his mother made me suddenly want to bring her something from this trip but it had to come from Mail, I wasn't her son. I was just very grateful that she was such a great mother, and some part of me wished mine was like her.  
"Well, I'd love to but..." Mail didn't have the money, I shouldn't have forgotten that.  
"Don't worry about financial aspects of our shopping spree, ok?" I pulled him on his feet, standing up from the bed, and motioned to go outside.  
"Mihael, you can't pay for everything, I'm not your housewife!" Mail stopped in his tracks, slightly indignated.  
I laughed out loud, a nasty comment reaching my lips, that I was unable to stop: "You'd look so good in a french maid's outfit though." I approached him while saying this, almost murmuring the words in his ear, and kissing his jaw line.  
I didn't expect the result though.  
Mail grabbed my face in his palms and began to kiss me feverishly, deepening the kiss very quickly, almost biting me. He was pressing himself into me, and I snaked my arms around his waist to bring him even closer. A few seconds later I was granted by something hard pressing against my crotch. Wow. Well, no need to say that my dick responded the same way very, very fast.

If it hadn't been Mail, I think I would have nailed him right there and then. Thrown him on the bed, got him naked, and jumped like there's no tomorrow.  
At some point I think it became too obvious that I was into it, when I grabbed his butt and pressed him even more against me. He stopped immediately what he was doing, looking at me and panting.  
He didn't look afraid, just hesitant. I had the impression he was evaluating the possible issues and weighting them to decide the outcome of this.

**Matt**  
He had done it again, the 'let's-melt-Mail-into-a-puddle' thing. It was still so new to me that a guy could do that to me when no girl had ever been able to (I was the one to melt girls into puddles, mind you). But I couldn't ignore what it did to me, and I felt the urge of something physical with Mihael _immediately_.  
So I kissed him. But it was not enough, I wanted to feel every inch of him. Well, apart from some 7 inches that I wasn't comfortable around yet.  
But as everytime he took control, my body just couldn't stop answering the stimulation, and I grew hard in no time.  
Our hot kiss lasted a few minutes, our hands exploring places, until his reached my ass and squeezed it.  
My mind sizzled at the thought of something else happening to my ass and I broke the kiss. Would I ever been able to give that to Mihael? Shit, I was so unsure... so frustrated that maybe it would never happen and he would never get what he wanted. I wanted to please him on this point but I couldn't, I just couldn't.

I tried to think myself into it. It couldn't be that bad, ok, it would probably hurt, but if so many people did anal, it couldn't be so bad. The girls in the glaucous bar had liked it after all. And it couldn't be different between guys and girls, gays did it too... But no, I couldn't. It's not that I wasn't ready, I didn't even want to do it.

Mihael was staring at me, waiting for a reaction. His face was slightly flushed, his lips swollen, his breath short.  
Damn, he was gorgeous. I still wanted him so bad... I had to find a way. He wouldn't take it, I wouldn't take it, so what was left?  
We couldn't just stop there and forget it, we were both hungry and horny like hell.  
I pushed Mihael sat on the bed, pecking his lips, smiling at him as he looked at me wondering what I was up to.  
Then I knelt between his open legs and began to unlace his leather pants, peeping through my bangs from time to time to look at him, and he was obviously understanding what I was aiming to do, but surprised at the same time.  
I slightly pulled on his leather downwards to free his erection, and then I faced the reality of what I wanted to do. It didn't seem so easy now that I was facing the matter. And I obviously couldn't do it. I felt awfully bad.

"I'm sorry Mihael, I thought that I could do it... but..."  
"It's ok, don't worry about that."

**Mello**  
I was disappointed of course, but I wouldn't show. I didn't want him to feel bad for trying, it was already much for him and I knew it. If today he could at least think he could do it, then there was hope, right?  
But I was still horny as fuck and I needed relief. I grabbed Mail and pushed him on his back on the bed, climbing on top of him to kiss him. He yelped at the harsh landing and laughed, encircling my neck to kiss me back.  
He was still as hard as me, and I began stroking his member through his jeans. Oh fuck those little moans he was doing...  
I couldn't wait anymore, I got into his pants literally, and took his penis in my mouth eagerly. He wiggled until we were in some kind of side by side sixty nine and began to jerk me off. Mmh, that was pretty nice.  
As I was sucking on him, I tentatively rubbed a finger along his scrotum, going as far as his anus, and since I got no reaction except moans, I began to make little circles around the tight muscle. I felt him stiffen and stopped.  
His member was starting to leak precum, and I accelerated my ministrations, until Mail was practically taking my mouth, his hips moving up and down. I resumed stroking his anus but he didn't protest this time, I guess he was too much caught in the oral I was giving to him, and masturbating me at the same time. He was doing good because I was very, very close to completion. Every guy has its own way to go about it but I guess Mail and me had similar ways since he was doing exactly what I would have done for myself.

I came faster than I expected, and my finger that was around his anus, slick with the saliva running along his member, probed him to the knuckle. I hadn't really realised I was doing it, but I guess my mind wanted to... My index curled and I could feel his prostate along with the contractions of the tight ring, and he suddenly came into my mouth, hard and long.

"Mihael..." Mail whispered, and I could tell he was as shocked as he was high.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just..."  
"No, it's ok, I mean, it was great. I... just don't know if I want something like this, that's all... It seems so weird to me... It's not you, I had a girl doing that to me and it's just very uncomfortable as a situation to me."  
"A girl probed your ass? Now that's interesting honey." I couldn't help but tease him. So I guess it was the typical 'don't-touch-my-asshole' guy thing, like the forbidden area because guys don't do that and so on... "I promise I won't do it unless you ask me ok?"  
"Ok."  
Mail smiled and kissed me before standing up and heading for the bathroom to clean himself from my cum.

**Matt**  
It was nice, walking hand in hand in Berlin streets with Mihael. We got stares but overall I was quite comfortable with us as a couple, publicly I mean.  
Sexually pleased and a belly full of german food, life was great right now.  
I still hadn't found something I wanted to buy for my mother but we had a few hours left before the stores would close. I had a nice leather case for my father's tools when he was called for a wheel change or small interventions like that, since his was so worn out that the seams had long gone and everything was always falling off.

We reached the main shopping street at some point, and Mihael laughed at me when I tried to pronounce it's name.  
"Kurfürstendamm, that's easy!" he mocked me, delighting me with his sexy german accent. You would think that German is a language that could be rude to hear, and sometimes it was, in the mouth of old persons in some of the stores we had visited, but Mihael's way of speaking German was fluid and softer, it didn't sound that hard, "Call it Ku'damm like everyone here." he winked at me.

We entered a woman clothing store in hope of finding something for my mother. My eyes fell on a very beautiful dress. A yellow summer dress, made of a very light and soft fabric, with a delicate white embroidery at the hem and thin straps. It reminded me of a 50's cinema star dress and I could very well imagine my mother wearing it with a matching ribbon holding her hair.  
I checked the price tag, and put the dress back on the rack. But Mihael took it back. I opened my mouth but he cut me straight: "Don't you dare protesting, this dress is perfect and you're buying it."  
He handed me his credit card. "Three seven nine two".  
I looked at him puzzled.  
"The code. Three seven nine two."  
He pushed me in the direction of the cashiers. I paid for the dress, totally stunned that he trusted me to the point he gave me his code so it was kind of like if I paid myself.

"Mihael, I just don't want you to think I'm with you because of money... I'm not at easy with you bringing me to a five stars hotel, then paying for all my expenses and even the presents for my parents..." I was really uneasy with all this, even knowing that he could largely afford it. It was not an excuse.  
"Consider this as a present to my parents-in-law then." he smirked at me, knowing all too well he would put another topic in my mind to distract me from the one we were talking about.  
My mouth opened and closed several times but I had nothing to reply to that, so Mihael gave me a butterfly kiss and pulled me to a Starbucks for some coffee. I guess it was useless to contradict him...

Since we had found everything for my parents, plus some chocolates and games, we just settled in the coffee shop, next to a window, and sipped our drinks, observing people outside.  
"Are you sad to leave?" I asked Mihael at some point.  
"Not really, I'm kinda eager to go back to LA and get back to normal, I don't belong here anymore, I guess this trip to my parents had at least the merit to make me understand that." he replied sincerely, and I was happy to feel that there really was no hint of regret in the tone of his voice. "I wondered, before coming here, if I would come back to Germany after I graduated, to find a job, but now I'm sure I won't."  
I smiled. I had been afraid that someday he would leave the US forever, because I wasn't sure I would have been able to follow him, so I was sort of reassured now.  
"And I'm impatient to see what you have in store for the date you asked me on." Oh the grin on his face. I'd better make it great to meet his expectations...


	36. Chapter 36

**_Note: _**_Oh my, an update! I don't want to give you false hope, I'm not on 'daily updates' mode. I know there'll be one tomorrow more than certainly but then I'm leaving for a few days and I don't know if I'll be able to write there._  
_Random questions answering because these keep coming up in PM: _  
_- yes, Lithium will be updated, I don't know when_  
_- yes, Lionheart will be updated, same as above_  
_- no, I'm not a guy_  
_- yes, I'm on Facebook and yes you can see my pic there, I've got nothing to hide, just PM me and I'll add you, but I think it's OBVIOUS I wouldn't put my real name in my profile here_  
_- yes, there will be other multichaptered fics to come_**  
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**Matt  
**We went back to the hotel after Mihael dragged me in possibly all the chocolate stores of Ku' Damm.  
I didn't even know if he would be allowed to bring so much chocolate in his luggage back to LA.  
I should have known better, he ate half of it before we even left Berlin.

I was smoking a cigarette, stood at the border of the terrasse of our hotel room, when Mihael joined me and encircled my waist from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder.  
"I wonder how my parents will react." I said, more to myself than to get an answer.  
"At least you don't mean to hide it from them." Mihael whispered in my ear, nipping at my lobe softly.  
I hadn't seen it that way. Of course I was going to tell my parents, there was no way I wouldn't tell them. They liked Mihael and they already knew my feelings for him anyway, and even if they didn't, I know I could tell them anything. Even if they had no clue I liked a guy, it wouldn't change anything: I knew they would accept it.  
It made me want to integrate Mihael even more to my family, to invite him over and such, because my parents were all he wished his were, and I wanted him to feel accepted and loved. And my mother was the best at that.  
"I may still feel uncomfortable concerning sex with you but I'm totally in peace with my feelings for you." I replied.  
Mihael apparently appreciated it because he imperceptibly held me tighter.

I crushed my cigarette in the ashtray and we both went inside. The day had worn us out and we needed some rest after all the events (and sex).  
I got naked and slid under the sheets after a quick teeth brushing, while Mihael took his turn in the bathroom.  
When he came back near the bed and began to undress, I couldn't help but stare. He probably felt it because he turned to me, shirtless in his leather pants. I think that's how I liked him best, his toned abs showing, his long legs moulded as well as his perfectly round ass, his hair slightly tousled.  
He grinned and resumed undressing, exaggerating his moves, making them extremely slow. When he was completely naked, back to me, he took a shy and cute expression, and peered over his shoulder.  
"Do you like what you see?" he acted.

I laughed out loud. It sounded so false coming from him.  
"I like what I see, but damn, you're incredibly bad at playing shy, I can't believe it one second Mihael, you're way too self conscious about how hot you look to make it work."  
He chuckled and climbed on the bed on all four, his look turning to predatory.  
"More credible?" he asked, after giving me the wettest and wildest kiss I've ever gotten.  
"Huh... yeah... yeah..." was all I could reply, "I... yeah..." I sighed, unable to be coherent, much to Mihael's amusement. Damn, I was hard once again.  
"I'm that good." he stated, smirking. And modest too...

He resumed kissing me, and soon things heated, as they always did.  
After some playing and kissing, I ended up on top of Mihael, my lower body settled between his legs. We were still engaged in a hot lips sucking and tongue flirting together when I began to move my hips, my cock rubbing against his.  
I slid against the sheets and my member ended up against Mihael's butt, but I didn't really mind at that point. I was practically dry humping him. He stiffened but that was about all. I rose on my elbows to reach his chest and proceeded to lick and suck on his tits, earning some pleasured moans from Mihael whose member, trapped between us both, was beginning to pulse with the friction. He came not long after, his semen running down his scrotum because of the position we were in. I increased the speed of my dry humping, feeling myself close too.  
And then, accidentally, because of the liquid making things slippery, just as I came my cock slid between his butt cheeks and the tip entered him.

"OW!" he shouted, immediately sitting.  
"I'm sorry!" I was mortified, I hadn't meant to!  
"I know... but damn, it hurts!... Hey, it's ok, don't look so alarmed, I'm fine now." he kissed me, chuckling at my expression.  
"That's exactly why I'm afraid, I was sure that it hurts like a bitch!" I replied.  
"Well, it hurts when you're not prepared, that's all, don't feel so bad about it! But that doesn't mean I'll take bottom sweetheart." Mihael laughed.  
"I wasn't thinking about it, believe me. Top or bottom, I just can't..." That was true, it was not a matter of taking it up the ass or being the one to give, I couldn't even give Mihael a blowjob so the rest was out of the question even more. But what if someday I could accept the idea of a real intercourse with him only if I could top?

"You wouldn't even take bottom for me?" I asked.  
"I don't think so. It's just not me, I'm more of an active than a passive." Mihael replied genuinely, but it hurt me to know he wouldn't do it for me.  
I stood up and cleaned myself in the bathroom before going back to bed. Doing the same, Mihael then proceeded to down another of the chocolate boxes he had bought, the one supplied by the hotel long gone.  
He probably noticed by my lasting silence that I was somehow sulking.  
"You're mad at me because I was being sincere with you?" he asked.  
"I'm not mad, I'm hurt because if the sexual side of our relationship depended on you taking bottom, you wouldn't do that for me." I said, more coldly than I really wanted to.  
He sighed but didn't reply.

**Mello**  
Why should I go against what I was for this relationship to work? God, I had enough of people wanting to change me!  
We stayed silent for quite some time after those last words, but I was ruminating. Even the chocolates didn't appeal to me anymore.

"Why are we talking like if I would have to take bottom anyway, you can't even accept the idea of penetration, be it me or you getting it, so there's no point to this conversation." I probably should have shut up...  
"Because I need to know what will happen, because I'm afraid, because you're obviously not taking this relationship as seriously as I am after all? Choose the answer you want, for what you care anyway!" Mail jumped out of bed, put his jeans on, and slid the glass door open. A few seconds later he was smoking on the terrace, and I was feeling awful.  
How could he think I didn't care? I had my doubts too, but I cared. More than that, I loved him.

I slid in my pants and walked to the terrace. I didn't have the time to get to him that he turned to face me and his look stopped me cold. The last time he had looked at me like this was the night when I had taken Annie's place and sucked him off, and he had looked so lost and dephased in the parking lot, just before he drove away.  
The same look that meant he wanted to trust me but was losing this trust because I had done something really bad. Except that this time, I didn't see what I said as 'really bad'. Hurtful maybe, but sincere, and not that terrible anyway.

No. No, I didn't want that look, that just couldn't happen. I wanted to talk, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't even have time to think of something to say, because Mail forestalled me. "What tells me you're not just trying to win a bet like you did before? Let's get into Mail's pants once again, and possibly fuck him, huh? Is that why you don't want to take bottom? Maybe you've played with me all along, and I was stupid enough to fall for you!"

What? Where did this overreaction come from? I had expected some kind of confrontation, argument, whatever, but not that! Ok, it was probably building somewhere in a corner of his mind from the beginning, and the circumstances just made it get out but still, if he was hurt, then what was I myself now? Believing I could be playing when I had proven him I had been sincere, I just couldn't believe my ears.

"I tried to become a girl for you, I've let down my guard and refrained my libido to give you time to get over things, I... how can you?" It couldn't be possible, I was hallucinating, I just couldn't accept that it was going that far when there was nothing it could be coming from. It was just surreal and left me out of words.

He sat on a chair, head bowed, an elbow resting on the table. I knew he was thinking hard.  
"Why do you always come first? Why do you only see your side of things? Do you want me to count all I've done for you? It that where we're getting to? I'm straight Mihael, I'm so fucking straight and yet I love a guy, how can you believe it's just a matter of refraining your libido until I get over it, as you say?"  
Mail stood up again and walked until he faced me close. "I need certitudes, this is the way I am. It makes me sick to think I cannot please you completely. If I just had to snap my fingers to accept to take bottom then I'd gladly do it Mihael, but it's not that easy. Nothing is that easy between us, it has never been, and we're not at all aiming at an easy future either, by the look of things."

I was letting the words sink in, unable to reply. Whatever I said could lead us to break up, and I didn't want to take the risk, so I just shut up, staring at him helpless.  
He was partly right, I was quite the type to make things go my way (ok, completely the type) but still, I didn't understand how we had reached that point. At that moment I was totally unable to understand his train of thoughts so there was nothing I could say to him, nothing that could solve the problem, because I didn't know what the problem was. So I just stared back in silence, devastated that our relationship went from taking it slow in perfect harmony to this mess of arguments, doubts and shouting in no time, and for apparently no reason.

And suddenly I had things to say. I had understood, and I exploded.  
"Why are you acting like a dick right now Mail? Tell me what could lead you to such statements like me wanting to win a bet, or not caring about you, or even thinking it was easy for you? When did I give you the tiniest hint that I could be playing you? And taking our past together into account is no fair game, so don't you even try! I won't let you get away with all this shit you said or even ruin our relationship Mail, I won't lose you for something as stupid as your fears about our future if you throw them at my face for no reason all of a sudden, when you never tried to tell me before. I'm able to understand, and even make things better, if you let me, but using the fact I hurt you with a truthful answer to get rid of all the rest of what's bugging you is uncalled for! I have feelings too, in case you forgot, I'm not your punching ball when you need to vent about our relationship! So whether you decide to explain things to me so we can solve them, or you realise you went too far, take back what you said and tell you're sorry is up to you, but those are the only options you have. Breaking up with me or running away is out of the question, is that clear?"

Ok, I was doing exactly what Mail was reproaching me, that is to say making things go my way, since I only gave him two choices and wouldn't accept that he took a decision outside of the boundaries I had just set, but I was infuriated. I knew that everything had happened too fast these last days, not letting Mail the time to process things and think them out like he's used to, and this was the result of it. But he had to count with me now, he could talk to me when things went out of hand in his brain, because we would never step forward otherwise, or he could ask me for some time alone to think. But I couldn't let him react like this when his thoughts went into overdrive, that was not acceptable. He had hurt me deeply, trying to get rid of his fears by throwing them at my face like this, I know he didn't really mean what he said, he was in defensive mode, he had always blocked me out when he couldn't handle me or the results of my actions before, and somehow tried to hurt me like I had hurt him. The problem was that it was on a totally different level, it was like burning someone to death in reaction to a bite.  
His last words didn't mean he was thinking of breaking up, actually, he was testing me. He was afraid to lose me as much as I was to lose him, and probably wanted to know how far he could go, how hard he could push me, to see where the limit was, the one that, once reached, really meant it was over.

Hopefully I would be right. I was still afraid that things turned bad though, since Mail was staying silent.

And then he broke up in tears.  
"You won't leave me, right?" he asked, and oh, the look he gave me... he was scared, really scared. I had mostly understood where he came from, but had obviously missed something.  
I took him into my arms, I wanted to comfort him but this fear emanating from him, I didn't understand.  
"Of course not. But we need to talk. You need to tell me what's wrong, because there's obviously something that triggered your sudden fit of anger." I stroked his hair, waiting for him to calm down.  
I let him smoke a cigarette quietly before we went back inside.  
I brought coffee and chocolates, and we snuggled against the pillows. Now we could talk.

"I'm gonna take both options and first tell you that I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said, I was just... I have let my fears take over but I admit it was uncalled for. Second, I'll explain why... it's just... it sounds stupid now but I'm afraid to lose you, all the time. I can't get past it, it's always bugging me somewhere between all happy moments, I'm perfectly well and suddenly I think about it and I get carried away in negative ideas and it's driving me crazy. I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid that it made you think about what I could say and lead you to decide my thoughts were right and we shouldn't be together, or think I was stupid and not worth being with you, I don't know... I know it all sounds completely dumb right now..."

**Matt**  
I felt so utterly idiotic saying all these things. It seemed so out of purpose compared to my reaction earlier, I really had lost it I guess. But it was true, I was scared shitless to lose Mihael. I had thought that my main fear was to be unsure that he would stay in the US after we graduated, but once this doubt erased, the real problems surfaced. I was still straight, I felt straight, and having a boyfriend didn't change it, I didn't feel gay at all. I felt like a purely straight guy fighting to love someone whose gender didn't correspond to his inclination on a physical level and even if I felt attraction for him, when it came to the real thing I was dragging my feet because my body couldn't, didn't want to go that far. Even trying to talk myself into it didn't work. And I was scared that Mihael would have enough at some point and got tired of it. He didn't have to cope with my doubts after all, he was already well served himself with what he dealt with on a daily basis concerning his homosexuality.  
It would be easier to think he left me because he was playing me than because of me, because I couldn't give him what he wanted. Or so I thought, but I knew that whatever led us to break up it would be terribly painful. I don't even think I could ever live with it.

Mihael listened to me all the time it took for me to explain, without a word.  
When I had nothing left to say, I looked at him, awaiting his reaction. He was looking back at me but I couldn't read his expression. I didn't know if it was good or bad and I was starting to panic. Maybe I should have just apologized and nothing more. Maybe I had made things worse by explaining all these stupid fears...

"I'm really happy you could finally get this out, and none of it makes a difference to what I feel, I know that you need to hear that, so I want to reassure you on that point, I would be more anxious if you actually had no doubts about our future because it would mean you take things lightly, so to me your fears are just a proof that you're as much involved in our relationship as I am. But I think I have to be completely honest in response of all of what you said. I have doubts too actually, and to be fair I guess I'd better tell them out loud too so we clear everything up tonight.  
The reason why I don't want to take bottom is not only because I don't feel it. It's true that I'm more of a giver than a receiver, but to be honest, I'd still have a lingering doubt about you and the way you see me if you fucked me and not the other way round. Like, I would always wonder if when you shut your eyes you wish I'm a girl..."


	37. Chapter 37

**_Note: _**_Last update before tuesday I think, since I'm leaving in a few hours for my native town (bleh). I hope you enjoy this chapter, seems I lost a lot of readers by not updating for so long aha XD_  
_That's all my fault anyway._  
_Four of you asked me for music suggestions while reading TSFMS. I'm quite embarrassed since music tastes are so different from a person to another so you may not like what I suggest, so I'll simply tell you what I listen to 99% of the time when I write: ONE OK ROCK. Lately, their new album Zankyou Reference, even if I usually have their full discography playing. 'Mr Gendai Speaker' rules ^^_**  
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**Matt**  
I hadn't seen this coming.  
I was feeling extremely oversensitive right now, on the verge of tears. I had unleashed all this shit on Mihael for no other reason than that I was overwhelmed by my doubts and couldn't handle them properly, and I had never ever thought that he could have insecurities too, in this relationship.  
I guess I still see him like the guy under control all the time. Well, he kinda is, since he never voiced his doubts and did with them, but still, I was feeling like shit right now.  
And thinking about what he said, the fact that if we didn't doubt anything it would mean we weren't involved seriously as a couple didn't comfort me to the slightest especially because I was bad at coping with relationship problems.  
But I knew he was right, if I was able to put myself in that state, it was because the terrible way I handled things was proportional to the importance of Mihael to me. I even suspected that I was unable to analyse the situation because I was so focused on him all the time that I just couldn't think straight.

And I began to laugh at that realisation. It was more of a nervous breakdown at first, but it was still funny, even if we were fighting a few minutes ago, even if the matter was serious. Mihael stared at me puzzled because I obviously looked like I was about to cry and now I was laughing out loud. Talk about looking like I lost my mind...

"Mail? Are you ok?" Mihael touched my shoulder, and I hugged him, making us fall back on the bed.  
"This is all your fault." I laughed harder.  
"What?" Mihael withdrew from me, resting on his elbow. He was trying to understand but he obviously failed, I couldn't blame him, it all seemed like I was psychotic.  
"What's happening, the argument, this is all your fault Mihael!" I tried to calm down but Mihael's face was priceless, not knowing if he should laugh with me or be angry.  
He sat on the bed and crossed him arms, frowning.

I sat too, facing him, and grabbed his face between my palms to plant a kiss on his lips.  
"Don't pull such a face! You should be flattered!" I said, exhaling loudly to be able to form coherent sentences so I could explain before he got really mad, I could feel him boiling.  
"I should be flattered to be responsible for us fighting?" He cocked an eyebrow, not really getting me.  
"Mihael, you know I need to analyse things all the time, so I can understand them, and my mind processes them and kind of... classifies them. And once they're in order, I feel better. But you're just too beautiful, sexy, smart, caring, everything! I can't think straight since we're together! All I think about is you, all I see is you, all I _want_to think about is you. Thus the mess concerning all the rest in my mind." I explained, dead serious, "You don't need an ego boost and I'm quite afraid of how your already very self assured self will react to that, but it's really all your fault, and it probably will happen again, and even if I'm sorry for that in advance, I'm afraid that my neurones can't compete with the feeling of being with you."

Mihael was looking at his hands in his lap, sat crisscrossed. Actually, I had never seen him shy. And this time he wasn't acting, and it didn't look fake. He was really embarrassed.  
He glanced at me, and even with only the dim light of the bedside lamp, I could see he was blushing. Mihael was blushing? Wow. Hum... It was cute. Sexy. Unexpected. But sexy (did I say it already?). Actually, it turned me on. In a totally different way than usual. I was taken aback.

"Mihael?" I asked, not really knowing what to do at that point since he was staying silent.  
"It did give me an ego boost." He whispered, "But it's... fuck... Mail I... I've always wished to find someone that would love me for what I am, that would accept me exactly as I am, and even if it's quite pretentious to say, someone whose center of the world would be me. And then it's happening, and I realise I may not be able to keep up with your standards, I mean, I don't feel as good as you seem to see me..."  
I cut him off.  
"Not being able to keep up with my standards? Mihael are you crazy? What does it say about me then? I know I'm cute, ok, but there wasn't much in me that you could love, remember how I was back to last year? No standard can keep up with _you_Mihael, and not the opposite!"

I couldn't believe Mihael was doubting himself now. It was Mihael damnit! Not some random dude! It was Mr Badass himself! It was just not right!  
Hmm... Looked like I had the same effect on him that he had on me. What a mess we were as a couple...

"So basically, we're not able to cope with the other's awesomeness." I stated blankly, trying to look serious.  
This time it was Mihael who burst into laughters.

I suddenly felt more confident with my relationship with Mihael than I had been the last days. I had never doubted the fact I was madly in love with him, but I was now putting everything that wasn't the present aside. I didn't feel the urge to analyse things anymore, I had this growing feeling in my gut that the important thing was now, was Mihael, my mind was giving up the fight, because, and it took me long to understand it tonight, it wasn't a matter of reason. I was trying to put words on the feelings I had, but I had never felt anything similar so my brain couldn't relate them to anything I had ever lived before. And it was such a waste of time and energy! Because instead of understanding and categorizing them so they could be in the right place in my head, I had to let them out, no matter if they had a name or not!

That's why my slowly growing physical need for Mihael had taken me aback. I could feel my body awake but in a totally different way than in the previous sexual activities we had had. It wasn't just the will to relieve a sexual tension, or exploring how far I could go, or being attracted to Mihael, if this appealed to me or that repulsed me or scared me, I was way past that level right now.

Mihael seemed taken aback by my expression as well, because his eyes widened slightly as he looked at me, when I took him into my arms and laid him on his back on the mattress very carefully.

**Mello**  
We weren't out of this mess for sure, since we were both so in love that we blew each other's mind, and it wasn't the best way to think things out. But at least we could talk, and that was much. I could keep emotions inside better than Mail so I would make sure I would speak to him enough so he didn't explode like tonight on a regular basis, I hoped I could help him express himself before he reached his limit, as well as express myself instead of hiding my fears.

Right now though, laid on the bed with Mail above me, his right hand cupping my face, his other arm holding my shoulders, I was unable to react. The atmosphere had become weird all of a sudden. Oh, not a negative kind of weird, but I don't know...  
Maybe it was in the way he looked me in the eyes, his fingers lightly caressing my cheek, the faint smile on his lips and the intensity of his pupils, but I couldn't move an inch.  
He kissed me so tenderly, it was almost surreal. Not that he was rough usually, but it was different. I brought my hand to his face, I needed to touch him. I traced the contour of his lips, his jaw, up to his cheekbone, and he grabbed my hand then. He kissed the back of it, then the palm, and entwined our fingers together, holding me close.  
He kept on looking at me straight in the eyes, still with that expression I knew, but couldn't place. I had seen it, not on him, but I had seen it.  
His kisses became deeper, his caresses bolder, all like in slow motion, with a tenderness that reduced me to a puppet in his arms. He was still holding me close with his left arm, but I wouldn't have moved anyway, he was totally in control, leading the exchange, and all I could do was respond to his kisses and hold on to him, not wanting him to stop or let me go.

At some point we were kissing so passionately, our bodies totally entangled, that I accidentally touched the tiny switch of the bedside lamp near the bed with my elbow and we were plunged in the dark all of a sudden.  
Mail raised a hand and fumbled to light it back on.  
I looked at him questioningly, it didn't matter if there was light or not, I thought.  
He smiled. "Leave the light on, I want to see the man I love when I kiss him", and Mail kissed me deeply.

I suddenly felt the change that had occurred in him. I couldn't really explain, I wasn't in a state that allowed me to think clearly, but I knew something was different and his choice of words wasn't innocent. He said 'the _man_ I love', not 'the one', not 'Mihael', not 'you'.  
His actions didn't let me explore that change further, emotionally speaking, because physically speaking...

"...When I caress him...", His hand descended along my side as he said it, "when I... devour... him...", his words punctuated the nips and licks he left on my chest, slowly lowering until he was plunging his tongue in my navel, then softly biting my hip, "and when I..."

Holy fucking shit!  
I felt the flat of his tongue run from my balls to the tip of my cock, and I went from half hard to fully erected in no time. The rush of blood was almost painful.  
I didn't expect him to do that. He had been so reluctant that I was really stunned. The surprise didn't last long though because soon he was swallowing me completely, sucking and bobbing his head, and I was unable to process any coherent thought after that.

**Matt**  
I didn't think, nor did I hesitate once Mihael's half erected member was under my nose. I hadn't planned this, but I wanted this now. I wasn't repulsed, I didn't think it was weird, no, nothing like that. I was even excited at the thought of giving him oral, and when I tentatively licked him, and felt him go harder, my own dick reacted the same. So I took him completely in my mouth, and did my best to please him. I certainly wondered at some point if I was doing well since it was the first time for me, but I tried to remember how I liked it, and not to use my teeth, and it seemed ok.  
His moans were so erotic that I was turned on like I had never been.

I glanced between my bangs, and the sight that met my eyes... Mihael was on his elbows, looking at me, his hair falling over his face, his swollen lips parted, his eyes half lidded and his chest heaving, his breath catching in his throat from time to time. He was so fucking gorgeous...  
So fucking gorgeous that I wanted to take him. Yeah, top him, penetrate him, make love to him, you understood right. So much that I came without even touching myself.  
I was coming down from my orgasm, pumping Mihael's member with my hand slowly, we were looking at each other and I couldn't begin to understand the rush of feelings all of a sudden, why this change in my mind... but I forced my brain to shortcut its analysis because it wasn't the right time or place, and I had a stunning man to take care of, which was way more interesting. Plus those feelings scared the shit out of me so... better not take them into account, we had had our share of drama tonight.

And I remembered what he said, and I knew I couldn't do that anyway, I mean, top him. But I still couldn't bring myself to be bottom. I was not so sure anymore that I didn't want it, actually, I think I was integrating the idea. But I wasn't ready yet. I knew that only fear and inexperience was stopping me now and nothing more, no repulsion or feeling that it was not for me or else. I had hope, I knew I could make love with him completely someday, but still I needed to take some time and think, when I would have this time, that is.

Yeah, he was so beautiful, and so looking at my every move that I became very self conscious of what I was doing.  
Mihael brought a hand to my hair, stroking it lightly, smiling so sweetly at me... When he let his guard down completely, Mihael was actually the sweetest person ever. He was tender, passionate, kind, caring... you'd never expect.  
I speeded my moves, hand, tongue, lips, full mouth, because I wanted to hear him moan again, more... he was panting, gripping the sheets, his voice giving me the sexiest sounds ever.  
"Mail... I'm close... just in case you don't want to..." he warned me, articulating with difficulty.  
Did I want to swallow? Hum...  
I hadn't really decided yet, when he came a few second later, so he shot half in my mouth, and the rest on my hand. After the initial shock of the first time, I swallowed, it wasn't that bad. Bitter, but ok. I really thought it would be a bigger deal but no, actually I kinda liked it. Not the taste itself, but the fact it was like sharing something more with him, knowing more of him...

I grabbed a towel left forgotten near the bed to swipe his cum on my hand and my own on my thigh, and threw it away, then I came back to Mihael, he looked knocked out. Spacing out even. He looked at me like he was lost.  
"You ok?" I asked, a bit concerned that something was wrong, kissing him on the forehead.  
He straightened in a seated position, brushing his hair away from his face.  
"Mail." He simply said and smiled.  
It shocked me how his usually sharp icy eyes looked like calm water right now. Even his jawline had lost some of its angularity.

I leaned and kissed him. "Yeah?"  
He was still limp in my arms, but suddenly encircled my waist and held on to me so strongly, burying his face in the crook of my neck, that I began to worry even more.  
"Mihael, what's wrong?" I whispered in his ear, kissing his temple.  
"Nnfff" was all I got as a reply.  
I withdrew to be able to see his face, but he wasn't crying like I thought he would be, he was still smiling, looking completely high.  
"Nothing." he repeated under my questioning gaze. Chuckling, he added: "I just want to be cuddled."

I couldn't help but laugh, laying on my back, pulling him to me and covering us with the sheets as I finally switched the light off.  
Mihael drifted to sleep very fast, which didn't surprise me since he looked like all his fire had left him. And emotionally speaking, he had had his share today.  
Oh, me too, but well, I had a lot to think about... which would probably wait later... tomorrow... or another day, as I fell asleep before I could even know where to begin with all that was rushing in my mind.


	38. Chapter 38

_**Note: **I don't know what happened for me not to update earlier. The whole chapter was written the day after my last update, except for the last 300 words, which is nothing. I don't know, I wasn't pleased with this chapter, and I'm still not, but after reading it umpteenth times, there's nothing I can do. I can't write it another way. So sorry, it's a bit boring because the events are random, but it's necessary and we're heading for very funny situations, and more dramatic ones, after that ^^_  
_Self ad because I like doing that: a oneshot called '**Aftertaste**' is waiting for you to read it, see my stories list :)_

Self ad 2: **Dlvvanzor** and me commited a co-authored fic again, under our joint account **Goggles and Chocolate** (see my fav authors list to find it), it's called '**Stockholm Syndrome**', and it's a dark one. It's MxM of course.

Next update a lot sooner than this one, promise! 

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**Mello**  
I woke up in the exact same position as the one I had fallen asleep in. Which was a rare thing to me. And I didn't feel the urge to move right now, my head resting on Mail's shoulder. I opened my eyes, staring a few minutes at his chest rising and falling in rhythm, he was so peaceful... and hairless.  
I hadn't really paid attention until now, and it was some kind of funny thing to do now when I was still half asleep, but his chest was smooth and hairless. He was more hairy 'down there', even if not that much, but still. I smiled, burying my nose in his hair, breathing in the scent of the hotel's shampoo, some expensive Crabtree & Evelyn blue stuff that brought remnants of salted water and seaweeds to my olfactive memories.

He moved and I knew he was about to come back from dreamland soon, so I rose at arm length to hover over him, waiting to pick up his first smile of the day. He smiled even before he opened his eyes, sensing me.  
"Why are you staring at me Mihael?" He asked in a content sigh.  
"Because you're cute." I pecked his lips and he chuckled.  
"Sentimental much?" Mmh, poetic even, I realised from my previous musings.

I stretched, reluctantly moving to the bathroom, but some less poetic stuff was waiting for me there...

When I came back, still naked, Mail was already smoking on the terrace, two steamy cups of coffee waiting on the table. I rummaged in my bag to grab some boxers and put them on before joining him, snatching a box of chocolates on my way.  
Mail looked at my boxers with a half grin as I sat.  
"Yes, I have some, is that so surprising?" I laughed.  
"Well, yes, it is." He replied, crushing the butt of his cigarette and sitting face to me.

I proceeded to melt some of the chocolates in my coffee under Mail's disbelieving gaze at the browny and syrupy looking liquid in my cup.  
"You really put chocolate everywhere." he shook his head, "Hum, don't reply to that, I just have to look at you to know what you were about to say."  
"You won't get the image out of my mind though." I stuck my tongue at him.

The morning ended lazily, none of us wanting to move from the room already. We had until noon so it was only at the last minute that we showered and packed in a hurry.  
Our flight back to LA was waiting for us, and so we were sitting in the plane a few hours later with loads of chocolate and games to last us enough time so we wouldn't end up doing something naughty in the bathroom, as Mail had said.  
I guess he knows me so well.

That didn't mean I didn't try to convince him to join me in the plane's bathroom, but for some reason the hostess spotted us as soon as we took our seats like if there was a 'hot guys in heat' sign over our heads, and she made a duty of acting like a guard dog each time Mail or me moved in the plane.

Out of boredom we finally slept the last hours of the flight, and not-so-soon considering the length of it, we were out of the airport, our bags in hand.

Mail's mother had come to pick us up, and I was delighted to see Mail redden like never when she called him her little fox once again. He didn't say anything about us being together, but strangely, I think she already knew. I guess mothers sense that kind of stuff... at least his, mine, I wouldn't know.  
She was sporting a big bright smile, and hugged me after she had given Mail his two minutes of shame. I was surprised but pleased, and it felt even better to be back to LA.

Pushing us to the parking lot, she chatted joyfully, asking us questions about the trip, Berlin, made sure we were both fine and that nothing bad happened, and drove us to the Jeevas' apartment.

**Matt**  
Why are mothers so embarrassing?  
I guess at least one person had fun with my mum's display of affection... Mihael didn't need to say anything, I know he was exulting when my mother called me her 'little fox'. I was mortified.  
Ok, I was happy to see her but still, I'm not a kid anymore...

She didn't even ask Mihael if he wanted to join us for lunch, she just drove home. Somehow I liked it, it was good to know she counted Mihael as part of the family already.

Since it was sunday, my father was at home (we were not religious or anything, but he never worked on sundays, except when he couldn't do otherwise). He greeted us with a smile as big as my mother's, and nervousness left me all of a sudden, and it's only then that I realised how much I had dreaded his reaction. He knew the reasons why I had gone to Berlin, and even if I still thought I should make it official sometimes later during lunch, he knew my feelings for Mihael.

We simply talked about the trip, the city, the culture, while we ate. The atmosphere was light and it suddenly dawned on me that I was lucky. Mihael and me were lucky. My parents were accepting, open and loving. They hadn't judged Mihael when he came here the first time, and had never gone against what he was. If anything, they had scolded me for doing it.  
What if I had had homophobic parents? Or racist parents? What if Mihael and me had to hide our relationship?  
I could all of a sudden understand Mihael a lot better, concerning his own situation with his parents. I had wanted to protect him, support him, as his boyfriend, because it hurt me to see him live something like that, but now, it was all on a very different level. I understood him.  
And it scared me shitless, because I realised in a shock that I was now a possible target for homophobes, that I was dating a guy, thus that I was labelled gay.  
I didn't feel gay. I was still feeling like a straight guy trying to get past the fact that the one he loves is a guy too. Nothing that I could explain to a homophobe that would beat me up because I was dating a guy...  
Damn... it was quite frightening, and something big to handle now, on top of all the rest.

I decided it wasn't the time to freak out, and put these thoughts aside. But for some reason I couldn't bring myself to tell my parents that I was in a relationship with Mihael. I just couldn't say it.

It was my mother's birthday today, that's why we hadn't stayed longer in that nice hotel. I know that my mother wouldn't have held it against me if I hadn't been here, but I wanted to. And we had bought the perfect present so...  
The face she made when, at dessert time, when she was about to cut the giant lemon iced cake, I handed her the packet containing the dress!  
She opened the box carefully, already alarmed by the brand on the glazed pink cardboard, and started to cry when she pulled the yellow garment out of it.  
Even my dad whistled at the sight of the beautiful item.

"Sweetheart, that's wonderful!" she beamed. She wasn't used to such beautiful clothes, and was slightly embarrassed, but she was more than pleased.  
She hung it carefully, and we ate the cake, but she was definitely touched because she couldn't stop crying and laughing at the same time.

When lunch was over, my dad stood up.  
"What about putting your most beautiful dress on and go to the park, my love?" he offered to my mother.  
She giggled and took the dress to get changed.  
When she came back, she looked like she was twenty again. She was so beautiful, I was proud of my mum.

**Mello**  
Mail's mother was absolutely gorgeous in that dress. And the way his father stared at her when she came out of the bedroom once she was changed... I suddenly placed Mail's look that night. My heart dropped.  
I knew I had seen it before, and it was right in front of me now.  
As much as Mail resembled his mother, the red hair, the deep blue smiling eyes, the freckles, the thin frame, the lips, this, the look that said "you're the most precious thing to me", that held so much love and showed protection and possession and strength, it was there in his father's eyes.  
I looked at Mail, smiling, butterflies in my stomach. But the look he had right now was nothing like that. I knew immediately that something was bugging him, I didn't need to ask.

His parents were about to leave so we decided to go to my apartment. It probably needed a bit of dusting after all this time, and I had to sort my stuff out anyway.  
But I was inwardly fearing a discussion of some sort, or worse, a fight. We seemed to be subscribed to those lately.  
To tell the truth, I was tired of it.

The drive was mostly silent, comforting me in the idea that nothing good would come out of this situation.  
I didn't expect Mail to trip me and make us land on the couch as soon as I had closed the door behind us, once in my studio. Well, something good came out of this, from the look of things. I laughed, kissing him back, but I quickly felt his hands wander downwards. I was as fast to reply to his advances, feeling myself grow hard already.  
It seemed we couldn't stay long without physical contact, and the way he was taking charge right now wasn't unpleasant. His lips were in my neck, sucking, licking and nipping, as he opened the laces of my pants and slid a hand inside. Slowly, he pumped me, kissing my shoulder, but I pushed him away.

He looked at me puzzled, but I just wanted to get access to the same area to return the favour.  
While I was pulling on his jeans, I changed my mind, and crawled to turn around. He quickly caught up with what I had in mind and got rid of his clothes while I undressed completely too, then laid on his back while I placed my knees on each side of his shoulders.  
As I swallowed him whole in one go, I felt his hand pushing on the small of my back, urging me to lower my pelvis, and soon he was licking the tip of my member, holding it with one hand motioning up and down.  
He pulled me closer to him so he could take me in his mouth completely too, and I couldn't help but moan. Holy shit, I wish it wasn't his mouth right now. I knew there was a possibility that it never happened, but I wanted to fuck him so badly! I wanted it probably too much because I came in a few seconds. I peered down to see Mail lick his lips and smile to me.

"Didn't know I was that good..." he teased me, pulling me upwards to kiss me.  
"I still have something to finish." I winked, but he held me tight against him, one of his hands caressing my butt. His breath was ragged, and I could tell he was still very horny.  
"I want you..." he whispered, kissing me wetly, "I want you Mihael..."  
It was needy, hot, impatient.

"You're at ease with the idea of taking me?" I asked dumbfoundedly. I didn't expect that. I knew we had fought over that but it was different to hear him say he wanted to fuck me. I was happy to know he accepted the idea of having sex with me, but... as much as I wanted it too, to my surprise, I just couldn't do it.  
I would do it, for sure, but he would have to let me top him first. So I would never have any doubts.

"Please..." his hands were all over me and he pushed me on my back, still kissing me. He stroked the inside of my thigh, and reached for my anus.  
"No Mail." I slid in a seated position, stopping him. He looked sad but suddenly resigned.  
"I understand." He simply said.  
"Don't be mad at me, you know I want you too, but not this way, or at least not the first time."  
"I'm not mad." he smiled weakly and kissed me, "It's just that I want you so much... I know what you think, I respect that, but I just want you so much, and I can't bring myself to take bottom... it's killing me..."  
"I know it's not easy, just give yourself the time you need, see how far you've progressed until now, it's all gonna be ok." I wanted to reassure him. I knew he wasn't trying to top me to prove anything, he just wanted me, and it was flattering, and I wanted him to know I wasn't holding on to my initial idea just to spite him off, but because it was better for our relationship.

"But I still have something to finish." I chuckled, pecking his lips as he laughed before plunging down to finish the job, taking care of his still erected member.  
He bent over me as he came, encircling me with his arms as he kissed the top of my head.

**Matt**  
I knew Mihael was right, but in the heat of the action, it wasn't easy to stop or get clear thoughts about the subject. Fortunately he didn't leave me neglected, and once I came down from my high, it was easier to think things out.  
Not easier to accept them though, but I didn't want us to fight again so I swallowed back my fears. I would deal with them, eventually, when the situation would occur, hoping it never would. I wasn't really eager to get beaten up for being gay, or even just being called a fag or something.

We put some order in Mihael's apartment, piling the clothes that needed laundry, dusting... We had the jetlag acting on us and this time it was energizing. I had only gotten used to it in Germany that now I had to revert back to California time, I bet my body would make me pay for it at some point, but right now, even after the sex, I was totally awake, and so was Mihael.

My mother called around 8pm. I guess she had missed me, she wanted to know if I would come back for the night but her tone made it clear she really wanted me home. I didn't know if she was eager to see me again, or worried that I spent the night with Mihael, but I didn't have the heart to disappoint her, and I had missed my parents too after all. I didn't really want to leave Mihael but we couldn't stay glued together all the time, he probably needed some space too.

I left around 10pm and if Mihael eventually wanted some space, he was hiding it very well because the way he wouldn't stop kissing me didn't help my departure to the slightest. If anything, it was making me horny again.

Once home, I had some coffee with my parents and we chatted a bit more before they went to sleep.  
I went to my room but I still wasn't tired. Laid on my bed, I absentmindedly stroke my member through the fabric of my jeans. Damn, I really was horny.  
I undressed and slid under the sheets, masturbating. But no matter how much I tried to think of Mihael, all I could get in mind was my inability to take bottom, and the huge problem it was.  
How could I solve it?

Slowly, I played with the tight ring of my anus. It was weird. I slid one finger while stroking my erection but it was a bit painful. Dry. I licked my finger and probed myself again, it was better. Not easy, I wasn't that flexible, but it wasn't that bad. Pumping myself harder, I tried to add a second finger but this time pain shot through me and I stopped immediately. Shit. I wasn't close to take bottom...  
But I couldn't stop there so I added more saliva and entered two fingers again just as I came. The sensation of having something inside of me while riding my pleasure wasn't bad.

The next day, I checked opening hours on the internet, and right at the moment the owner opened his store, I entered the sex shop. I needed lube, and I was way too embarrassed to buy it at the local store. Here, no one would judge me, right?


	39. Chapter 39

_**Note: **I'm keeping up with updates today (Lithium was updated, chapter 52 is posted. I bet you didn't expect this after almost two years *lol* and to think that there's still as much to come...)_  
_Happy New Year everyone!_**  
**

* * *

**Matt**  
The owner of the store grinned at me with a look I'd define as 'is-he-gay-is-he-straight-will-I-get-my-chance-or-will-the-kid-scream-murder?'. Not exactly reassuring. I made my way through the aisles although I had already spotted various lubes that obviously had to be right next to the counter where the old fart was standing. I wanted to brace myself before I faced him, because I was growing really uncomfortable. Even more so when a couple entered the store a few seconds later, but they didn't even spare me a look so I just shied away and stopped in front of whatever rack display was there, out of sight of everyone so I could breathe.

Dildos. Great. I didn't even know there were so many different shapes, colours, sizes... I felt like a puppy looking at something he didn't understand, my head cocked to the side, as my eyes surveyed the rack, opening wider and wider every second.  
'The Black Mamba'. Insert Mail fainting here. That thing was huge! How can someone even want to stick that _somewhere_. I don't want to know where. Thirteen inches long, three inches thick. Holy shit. Breathe. Breathe Mail. Open mouth, fill lungs, exhale, and again. Your boyfriend is German. With a white dick. A very, very normal sized dick. If this thing is the Black Mamba, then Mihael is the white worm. Mmh.

I suddenly had to refrain myself not to explode in giggles. If Mihael knew I had called him that, he would kill me. It was a direct attack to his male pride. No, he wasn't small in any way, it was just my poor attempt at reassuring myself. A worm doesn't hurt... and a large portion of the male population would look like a worm compared to the Black Mamba anyway.

I looked away from the horrible item and my eyes fell on something that resembled a bunny. A pink bunny. This was closer to something human sized... oh...  
I grabbed the item all of a sudden, walked to the counter, grabbed the cheapest lube, paid and ran away from the store.

Sat in my car, I shamefully hid my purchases in the glove compartment. Why did I buy this _thing_?  
Oh hell, I knew why. But I didn't know if I would have the courage to do it.  
I spare you the mental images that crossed my mind all the way home. Once arrived, I ran upstairs, and breathed once I was safe in my room. No one saw anything. Phew...

I hid the brown paper bag containing my 'tools' in the most improbable place where I knew no one would look (not that my parents would rummage in my room anyway, but all this was making me extra cautious and nervous).  
Ok, let's forget it, it's not because I bought it that I'm forced to use it. We'll see that later. Much later.

I had to meet Mihael in the afternoon and I was already tapping the floor with my foot as I tried to focus on the web page I was looking at. We had spent all our time together these last days and still I couldn't get enough. I knew it was normal to have time without him, to spend time with my family, my parents really wanted me here, we were only at the beginning of our relationship, but I couldn't find anything _normal _in being away from him. There was nothing normal in our relationship after all.

I sometimes imagined what it would be like to date a girl, before I met Mihael. Not just to fuck them in the backseat of my 'Love Machine', a real exclusive relationship with a girl, taking her out and such. I never took my imagination too far since I wasn't up for that kind of relationship but still I wondered, looking at my parents, what my one and only would be like, and how things would go, because at some point I guessed I would settle somehow. It's what people do, usually. I imagined seeing her once in a while, getting to know her, and things would progress from that until we got married.  
And it was so not like this with Mihael. I just... fell for him, and no matter how much I thought it came little by little, I have to admit now that it was meant to be from the beginning. That attraction I had for the person he was, even when I hated him, maybe it was my heart telling me _he_ was my one and only right from the start?  
I would probably never know for sure. All I knew was that there was no way we would see randomly like any young couple. I wanted his presence all the time. The time without him was just not life, it was just a painful wait.

Not being able to keep waiting anymore, I just drove to his place. I was two hours early. I did a U-turn once his building in sight and went to a shopping area. I bought Mihael's favourite pastries, some chocolate, and... flowers. I wouldn't know if gay couples would buy each other flowers. But I bought some. Yellow miniature sunflowers, it just seemed right to me. They were beautiful like him.

I was still an hour early when I rang to Mihael's door. But I got no answer. He was probably still sleeping. No, he would have heard me anyway, the door ring was so loud you could hear it through the whole corridor.  
I used the key he had given me and entered, trying to spot him in the bed, but he wasn't in. I closed the door behind me, calling him as I deposited the food and flowers on the kitchen table.  
"Mihael?"

The door of the bathroom opened.  
"Mail? Is it two already? I thought it was earlier..." His voice came out of the small room, muffled by the towel he was drying his face with. Obviously out of the shower, his hair was wet and tousled.  
"Nah, I'm one hour early..." I suddenly felt extremely stupid for my impatience and I was about to apologize when Mihael's face appeared finally now that he had thrown the towel back in the bathroom, a huge smile on his lips.  
**Mello**  
I was feeling all fuzzy inside again. Only Mail could do that to me... Knowing that he had been unable to wait to see me was a great ego boost, but it wasn't exactly what I felt right now.  
I was just melting because of the way he made me feel important, and captivated by the look he was settling on me just as I strode out of the bathroom.  
Oh fuck, the way he came to me, looking predatory, pinning me to the wall and kissing me roughlier than usual, and yet his hands were soft on my back, caressing me, pushing me closer to him... and he just held me there for a few minutes, tenderly.

I was oscillating between the feeling he treated me like a chick he wanted to fuck, and the feeling he really wanted me for what I truly was, again. I didn't know where to stand, I really wanted this sorted out. Hell, I knew he loved me, but that didn't mean he wasn't fooling himself.

Mail let go of me when he felt me stiffen because of my thoughts and looked at me questioningly. I gave him a reassuring smile and spotted the... what the fuck, flowers?  
He brought me flowers. Really, ok, gays like flowers too, but it wasn't of any help with my feeling that he may still be fooling himself into dating a girl.

"Shit, I knew it was stupid," he mumbled, "It seemed normal when I bought them, I mean, they reminded me of you... but it's just ridiculous, I know..."  
"I love them." It was true. Especially since he had bought them because they reminded him of me, not because he followed some cliché. I found a glass big enough for the bouquet and placed it on the kitchen table. And there were pastries, and chocolate too.  
I kissed him. Deeply. He was just the sweetest guy on earth. I felt guilty for my previous thoughts. I couldn't help them, but shit. It wasn't like that. It was stupid to think he was fooling himself. Not after all we've been through. Not after sucking my dick. Ok... I'm not the most subtle guy on earth. I know.

We ate breakfast in silence, his legs trapping mines under the table, my foot stroking his calf, both smiling to each other like two teenagers in love.  
I'm usually not that sappy but I was probably discovering what was true love with Mail, and it relinquished all my past relationships, I mean the serious ones, to some childish romances. I wasn't counting the guys I dated for sex only.  
When you're a teenager, each time you get into something possibly serious, you wonder if it's true love, if it's the one, if it's gonna last forever, and when you find the right one, you just don't question yourself anymore. Much.  
Ok, I still had doubts, but it was more related to the fact that I was dating a guy that wasn't even gay to begin with. Which, if I was being logical, should have erased my doubts. Who, except someone that really loves you, dates you despite the fact you're not the gender he likes?

"By the way, I'm taking you on a date on saturday evening." Mail suddenly said, grinning.  
"Great!" I was excited. It would be our first official date, and I was really wondering where he would take me. Fucking shit. The feeling of being taken for a chick was back. I obviously wouldn't get rid of it as long as I wouldn't have fucked Mail, it seemed.

It was still four days to go though, until saturday. It would put a great strain to my patience.  
Would we go to the cinema? To a restaurant? To our usual café? No, knowing Mail it would be something unusual.  
This would kill me.

"What have you planned?" I tried innocently.  
"Do you really think I'll be ruining the surprise by telling you?" he chuckled, and I frowned, frustrated.  
"Come oooon, I need to know what I should wear, at least!" second trial.  
"Nothing special, just come as you are." Mail chuckled again, "well, not as you are_ now_, of course." he corrected himself. I was still naked. And he knew me so well...

It was very hot today, and none of us felt like wandering around the city so we just stayed lazily on my couch, listening to music, watching movies, playing sex games... could've been worse.  
I think we also wanted to make the best out of the last days we had before uni would start again.

Mail left around 8pm. He offered me to come with him since he had to be home to have dinner with his parents, like he had promised his mother, but I thought it was better to leave them be just the three of them, I didn't want to interfere with his family meetings all the time, they invited me already quite often and it was normal that Mail saw his parents alone from time to time, since he was very close to them.

**Mail**  
My parents and me chatted quite long after dinner had ended, and it was obvious they liked Mihael a lot. My father had even given me some advices for places to go for a date (yeah, I hadn't told anything to Mihael only because I didn't know myself what we would do. All I knew was that I wanted to make something really special).  
The fancy restaurant was out of the question since I had told Mihael he could come as he usually was, so they would probably not let us enter with his sexy leather, and I didn't have the money anyway, I still had to work with my father a lot to pay for the flight to Berlin.)

Around midnight, I went to bed since I had to wake up at 7am the next day to effectively help my father at the garage. Even Mihael would be there. I was pretty sure he wanted to help too more because otherwise we wouldn't see each other for the next days as much as we wanted than because he liked mechanics, but I was fine with it, I couldn't imagine to just see him a few hours in the evening, and I would probably fall asleep anyway.

I was slowly dozing off when it came to my mind that I didn't know how the date would end. It woke me up instantly. I mean, we had already kissed and even if what we did was not having sex completely, it still counted as sexual so the only thing that would make this date special was obviously me taking it up the ass.  
I thought about my morning purchase. No. It was... weird. Was it?

I took the pink bunny out of the place I had hid it, along with the lube.  
In the moonlight passing through the curtains, I stared at the plastic item. It wasn't that big.  
Fuck, yes it was. And yet, if I wanted Mihael to take me, t would be pretty much the same. Same size, I mean.

Still holding the dildo, I lubed my fingers and gave another try at stretching myself. It was SO weird.  
Strangely less painful than the day before, maybe because of the lube.  
I had three fingers in my rear when I realised it was fine now.  
Lubing the bunny, I rubbed it around my hole before lightly probing it. It seemed ok.  
OUCH!  
The head of the bunny was out as soon as it was in. That thing hurt!  
Cleaning everything, I hid the whole stuff away and got back to bed. There was no way I would bottom. NO WAY!

That night, a giant plastic bunny ran after me with a giant black dildo, and no matter how fast I ran, he kept on poking me with it. I woke up sweaty when my alarm rang. Already seven...  
I got out of bed with difficulty, and felt last night's intrusion as I sat on the border of the bed.

I showered, and as I came in the dining room, I laughed as I saw Mihael being stuffed with pastries like a turkey getting prepared for Thanksgiving by my mother who was urging him to eat.  
That was a sight I loved, Mihael in the middle of my family. I think he was just my family as well.


	40. Chapter 40

_**Note: **Another update! This is Christmas after Christmas XD_  
_Oh, and this story officially hit 1000 reviews, wow! I can't believe it! Unfortunately, my 1000th reviewer didn't sign in or at least give a username so I'll use this note to thank this person. Your review left me all fuzzy inside ^^ Please, just tell me who you are next time! Danke schön!_**  
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**Mello**  
I couldn't say no to Mail's mother. She was just that kind of woman you admire and yet you are still a bit afraid of. When she said eat, I ate. I wanted to lose weight and here I was stuffing my mouth with croissants although I already had the day before and I wasn't super sporty lately. My body would make me pay for this.  
Mail came not long after I sat at their dining room, his hair still wet. It's difficult to eat a brioche with an erection. And to think we'd have to work all day long and I was already that horny... there wasn't a chance that I got him cornered during the day, unfortunately. Tonight would be a firework.

I could calm down my lower half before we left the apartment, fortunately.  
The drive to Mr Jeevas' garage was short and I was frustrated I didn't even have time to tease Mail. I was pretty helpless when Mail began to work on a Mercedes with his father but I found it pretty entertaining to watch him. He's pretty skilled and seemed to know what he was doing, and believe me, Mail with a greasy tee shirt, his jeans riding down his rear a bit when he bends over the motor... hum... you see what I mean. Had his father not been here, that car would have had more than grease and gas staining it.

At some point I could finally be a little helpful when Mr Jeevas asked me to hold various things for him as he got to fix them, or bring him tools, or clean some.  
We ate sandwiches from a basket Mail's mother had prepared (she must have thought we were at least 6 with all the food she had put in it, which comforted me in the thought that the Jeevas family had not much but was all the more generous). Finishing with some apples, we saw a guy arrive on a motorcycle that was doing quite a strange noise.  
What an engine!

**Matt**  
Mihael jumped on his feet as soon as the sleek black Honda coughed its way in the garage. He looked mesmerized by the vehicle. The guy that was riding it took his helmet off, and I immediately felt the hairs on my arms raise in anger.  
The way he looked at Mihael made me want to slap him. Especially because I quickly remembered that I had already seen this guy turn around Mihael at the bar he worked at.  
Mihael and him chatted a bit about the motorcycle, I knew that Mihael was innocently interested by the engine because he liked Hondas and even had one, but the guy kept on glancing at his ass.

"Keep calm Mail, it's a good customer." I felt my father's hand on my shoulder. So it wasn't my imagination, if he had seen what was happening too. And to think he was a regular here, I wasn't so sure I wanted Mihael to stick around too often.  
I tried to ignore the scene but I couldn't get my eyes off the guy, spying his every move. He was way too focus on staring at Mihael's black-jeans-moulded ass to notice me. Why on earth did Mihael have to wear such tight pants all the time? Ok, I loved it, but if it meant that others would drool over him too, that was a big no-no.

My father went to the guy. "The injection again?" he asked, taking the keys that the guy was handing out to him. He started the motorcycle, listening to the sound of it, stopped it and went to pick some tools.  
"Good to know you hired some staff here Sir, I guess that your good reputation brings a load of work and you can't handle it all..."  
He never looked at me once. He turned to Mihael with a smirk. "I bet you're as good with those tools than with a shaker..." he whispered for Mihael only to hear but the acoustic of the place sent the words unto me, and the way my father ticked, probably unto him too. He walked to the guy before me, sending me a look that said 'stay where you are and shut up', and put himself between Mihael, who had tensed, and the guy.  
"It's my son's _boyfriend_, and my son over there. They're helping a bit."  
The way he emphasized 'boyfriend', the guy immediately retaliated. Oh, Not really because my father had made it clear that Mihael was taken, but more because of my father himself. You'd never guess that I'm his son since I look nothing like him. And I bet the guy didn't want to make someone like my father angry.  
He's the 'proud irish' kind, square shoulders, muscles, jaw cut in rock, big calloused hands. No, you really don't want to upset him.

The guy left after my father told him to pick his motorcycle in three days (I bet he stated this long on purpose since we wouldn't be there on saturday).  
"Wow Mail, your father rocks!" Mihael laughed.  
I saw my father smile before sliding under the Mercedes. Yes, he rocks. Who has a family that accepts that their son dates another guy just like this? And admits it in front of strangers?  
"Thanks Dad." I simply said.  
"You're welcome son." a muffled voice came from under the car.

We got the Mercedes fixed before the day ended, and the owner, when he came to pick up his car, gave an extra to my dad for calling him one day early.  
I was taken aback when my dad handed out this extra to me.  
"But Dad, I already owe you a lot!" I protested.  
"You're paying me back on working hours, but I wouldn't have gotten this extra without your help so it's your, take it."  
he pushed the money in my hand, and bent toward my ear, "and I heard you've got a date on saturday."  
I grabbed him and hugged him, surprising him. He laughed nervously. He wasn't the kind to be demonstrative, but shit, I loved him so much!

**Mello**  
Mail's father is really great. I already knew that he had nothing against me and Mail as a couple but hearing him say it so openly was really comforting. I loved the whole family. Yah, I wish mine was like that and somehow I wanted to be a part of it, because feeling that someone cares about you feels good, so being accepted by Mail's family was important to me.  
So when Mail's father drove to their apartment for diner, he just said "You're dining with us Mihael, yeah?" with this thick accent of his, and didn't even wait for a reply to take the Jeevas' home direction.  
After showering to get rid of the grim of our work (not together although I tried, but his mother suddenly asked me for help in the kitchen as I was beginning to follow Mail when he went in the bathroom... clever woman), we ate dinner and I suddenly wanted to do something.

Mail drove me home (I had taken a taxi to come because it was way too hot to ride my Honda with all the attire, only a stupid jackass like the guy that came at the garage today thinks it's cool to drive in jeans and a tee shirt. Get into an accident you jerk and you'll feel fine with no protection...).  
His mother had offered that I stayed but I had to go back to my studio for a long distance call.  
When he parked in front of my condo, I literally jumped him as soon as he got his seatbelt off. Straddling him, I kissed him roughly, all my hormones getting crazy.  
"Mmh... Mihael..." Mail stopped kissing me, holding my face between his palms, like if he was trying to refrain something, but resumed kissing me as feverishly as I was, and soon his hands were grabbing my ass firmly, pushing me into him. I could feel his erection through his jeans and it didn't help my own.  
Suddenly he pushed me against the stirring wheel (ow!) quite roughly, unbuttoned my jeans and, bending as much as he could in the tiny space, began sucking me eagerly. I almost exploded immediately but managed to hold it.  
I grabbed his face to kiss him so I had access to his own erection, that I quickly freed, but the friction of both our dicks together wasn't enough for him. I was horny as hell, but Mail was _on fire_.  
I knew he had quite a demanding sex drive thus the amount of girls he fucked before, but being here between his hands was like being consumed. No matter how dominant I could be, he had this aura I couldn't fight, that had me melting every time.

"Ride me..." he whispered in my ear, nipping, licking, trying to get my jeans out of the way as I felt his fingers reach for my asshole. Truth is, I was about to give in.  
"Mail..." I murmured, I was unable to be coherent. I wanted to impale myself on him without a second thought and ride him and have him make me rocket come in no time. "Mail... no... don't do that to me..." was all I could say. I knew I would do it if he didn't stop, I was way past my limits and I wanted him no matter who topped who.

**Matt**  
It was a plea. And it took all I had of love for him to stop because he didn't have the strength to. I could have just gone on, and I would have had him. I would have fucked him. I don't even know how I was able to stop because I was ready to rape him, his little round ass... Ah fuck! I should stop thinking about it, it only makes things worse.  
I knew he was right but still, we were in my car, still horny, in erection, and looking at each other without knowing what to do. So I just hugged him, and kissed him, and hugged him again, until we calmed down and we could put our 'stuff' away. I didn't want him to think I was angry or whatever he could think, I think I loved him even more for trusting me so much when he had completely lost his footing.

I walked with him to the building's door, we were both silent.  
"So you were jealous?" Mihael suddenly smirked, turning to look at me.  
Count on Mihael to point exactly the one thing that made me want him even more tonight. I hadn't even noticed myself until now.  
"I know you're not really the kind who let others claim they own you, but truth is, all I could think of was 'hands off, he's mine'..." I admitted.  
"I'm yours, you know..."  
I was really surprised to hear Mihael say that. I would have rather thought that he would make fun of me for thinking I could own him so it was just... a big change?  
"I'm not joking..." he added since I didn't reply (and I was probably doing a funny face), "But I also consider you're mine." He snaked his arms around my waist, pulled me to him still with that naughty smirk on and kissed me, holding me strongly. I laughed in the kiss. That was more Mihael-ish.

This little episode comforted me in the idea that I HAD to take bottom, and soon, because it was really getting to us.  
I retrieved my 'tools' back, and did the same as the night before. Except that when I inserted the bunny, it didn't hurt as much. It was still painful, but breathing and relaxing helped. I wondered if I could be that relaxed when it would be Mihael penetrating me. When it didn't hurt anymore, I tried moving the dildo in and out but it was quite uncomfortable so I stopped there. It was a little progress so it was already much, I guess.

The next day I found Mihael in the role of the turkey in the dining room again, the day was pretty eventless and things went perfectly. At some point, my father repaired the guy's motorcycle and since Mihael got really interested in it, my father showed him how to do several adjustments, and let him do some fixing. I just stared at the scene, smiling. That's when I remembered that Mihael had gone home the day before to make a long distance call to his parents. I had to ask him how it went. He had told me he wanted them to come in LA and it made me pretty anxious for him because he wasn't with his parents on the same terms that I was with mines, or that _he_was with mines, and I feared a clash or something.

During dinner, I was quite surprised when Mihael asked my parents if they minded meeting his parents. I hadn't asked him about the call yet so I was just now getting the information that his parents had apparently accepted to fly here.  
"Of course Mihael! That would be a pleasure to meet your parents! They could come over for lunch, or dinner! When do they arrive?" my mother seemed all excited. My father didn't seem to object either.  
"They're arriving on sunday..." Mihael began.  
"Do you have enough place to accommodate them? Do they need a drive from the airport?"  
"Don't worry Mrs Jeevas, I already booked a hotel room for them and they're used to taxis everywhere they go so it won't be a problem." Mihael suddenly realised that no matter what I had told my parents about his, they really didn't know the extent of the difference between them and Mihael's parents.

What made me pretty disappointed was that they would arrive the day after our first date. I was already anxious because of that date, but now I had even more reasons to be stressed.

"Did they sound happy to come here?" I asked Mihael once we were alone in my car as I drove him to his apartment.  
"My mother seemed well disposed at least. My father won't be a problem, he may be a bit uncomfortable but that will be about all. I don't exactly know how my mother will act though, she can be... stupid. She doesn't really care about people and can say hurtful things. But I have to do it. I want them to see your parents, how they act with me, with us. I envy you so much you know... I just want my parents to accept and to be happy for me..."  
"I know Mihael, every time I see my parents interact with you, I see how lucky I am. It's hard to imagine that I was so narrow-minded before, huh?" I tried to enlighten the atmosphere. Mihael smiled weakly before kissing me goodnight and entering the building.

All I could think about that night was Mihael's parents venue, and I had a lot of nightmares because of that. At least, they would be on _my_ playground, whatever happened, I was on conquered land, not in a foreign country, so I wouldn't let them hurt Mihael as they pleased. I secretly hoped that if Mihael had been able to change me the way he did, my parents would change his all the same. It had to work, because I wanted Mihael to free himself from this. It was eating at him, and although he hid it, each time he talked about it, his voice trembled and showed how hard it was for him.


	41. Chapter 41

**_Note:_**_ Daily update again! But I suspect you're gonna hate me for this one XD (yes, my best friend Cliffie's back! And probably the worst I've ever made).  
BTW, my lovely bride Miharu_is_Harukas_Love_Child has a great fic you should read, it's Tearoom (the others are good as well, go read!). You can find her in my fav authors list._

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**Matt**  
I woke up in a start. Friday! One day to plan the date! I glanced at my alarm clock: 7:18am. Better get up now, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. We had agreed that Mihael and me wouldn't help my father today, me because I had to get going if I wanted our first date to be the perfect date, Mihael because he had to prepare stuff for his parents' arrival like reserving a taxi for when they would land at the airport, making sure the hotel was up to their standards, buy some presents (I didn't really get why he would get them presents since they were the ones visiting, and they hadn't been really nice until now, and nothing was less sure than the fact that they would be in the future.)  
Well I guess it was just being polite.

I had my idea as to what Mihael and me would do on our date, I just hadn't had time to prepare anything. Well, already having an idea was much of the work done, I had been clueless until yesterday actually, and was really freaking out to come up with a last minute lame stuff like a picnic and a boat ride at the park.

I was a ball of nerve all the way to the shower to when I came to say hello to my mum in the kitchen. She laughed when she saw me running around like an undecided puppy, unable to choose to have a bowl of cereals which would force me to eat at the table, or anything that I could just take with me instead.  
"Sit down my little fox, I'll bring you breakfast and we can talk." _huh-ho...  
_  
She sat face to me with a cup of coffee as I began to munch on my Lucky Charms (shut up, ok?). She had her serious face on. Not the one that means 'I have something bad to tell you', but more like 'let's discuss adult stuff, you're a big boy now'. I hope she wouldn't bring the topic of bees and flowers...  
"Mail, I don't need to ask you if you're nervous about tomorrow, I just have to look at you." she began, smiling.  
"I'm so scared to ruin everything, I want this to be perfect... but I don't really know... he's a guy and I don't know what guys do on a date... I don't even know if what I planned is romantic enough, and does it have to be romantic? Damn, it's so stressful!" I didn't even breathe through the whole sentence.  
"It's about being together Mail, and doing something he likes, if it's you in charge of the organisation, don't worry that much, I'm sure you'll do good."  
"It's not only that... hum... no, nothing." I retaliated. This was a subject I didn't want to bring up with my mother.  
"Mail, let me get this straight. I know you're not a virgin, I don't even know how far you and Mihael went, and I don't want to know, but there is one thing I want to make sure of. Your father and me never said anything about your many girlfriends although we didn't really approve, you told me once that you always protected yourself and I trust you about that, it was the most important to your father and me..."  
"Moooom!" I protested, it was beginning to be really awkward.  
"...but now it's different. Feelings are involved. Not only yours, but Mihael's. I know that you would never hurt him on purpose, but sometimes we can hurt people without knowing we do. I know how you feel about your relationship with him. You still say you are not gay and I'm concerned with it. I can understand your point of view to some extent but since you are going public tomorrow, you will probably have to deal with more than you can handle. I know you like if I made you sweetheart, I know how you can explode once you're exposed too much. And I care for Mihael, and don't want you to explode at his face if you realise that although you don't feel gay, people think you are, and attack you on that matter. Just don't go further than you can handle with him. Don't put your relationship with him on a level of involvement that leads to breaking his heart if you decide to go backward once you realise you can't accept what people will label you."  
We both stayed silent. I didn't know what to reply to that. I had been concerned with the same thoughts for days, weeks, and still I could not label myself as gay. I hadn't faced the 'real world' as one half of a homosexual couple, so I wouldn't know what it would feel like. What people would do, say... I had no answer. I couldn't even say that I knew myself enough to imagine my reactions to whatever happened, because my mother was right, I knew I could explode anytime if under pressure. The events at the Berlin hotel were the best proof of it. But last night, I also learnt that I could stop a fire for Mihael. I could say no to my own want, as strong as it was, just so I wouldn't go against what Mihael wanted. Maybe it was what love does to people, maybe I was growing up, maybe it was just a one time miracle. I had to live it to know what I would do exactly.  
I swallowed the last bit of my cereals. "The only label I deem important is being in love. Being gay, or whatever people can say, won't change the fact that Mihael's the one for me."  
My mother smiled to me in a way she had never done.  
Actually, it felt really weird to tell her that and yet, I knew she would never judge it sappy or whatever, she was my mother, and she was the best. So I simply decided to be honest with her, no matter how awkward it sounded.

**Mello**  
It was only 2pm and I was pacing back and forth in my studio, unable to decide what to do with myself. I was done with the stuff for my parents' visit, hotel, taxi, whatever places I had to bring them to, all booked and organised. And I would not see Mail until tomorrow 3pm. Fuck. This wait was killing me.

I decided to go for a ride. The weather had cooled down a bit. Not enough to feel comfortable in leather but still, I couldn't stay at home like this, it was driving me crazy, so I just slid in the garment that made my skin sweat as soon as I zipped everything in place. So I hurried to my Honda, wishing for the air to refresh me a bit while I would be speeding on the road. Even the helmet made me sweat, I could already feel my hair stick to my nape. But there was no way I'd ride without protection.

I revved the engine to life and pulled out of the underground parking. I quickly exited the lot and made my way out of the city. Being stuck in traffic wouldn't help the drops rolling off my forehead. Damn helmet.  
I breathed better once I was on the fast lane, and pushed the gas to gain some speed. Soon I was at speed limit, not really caring where this would lead me, I just wanted to enjoy the ride.  
I felt my phone buzz in my rear pocket and took the first curve to a rest area so I could check who it was. I was actually hoping it was Mail. I smiled, once stopped, when I saw the ID blinking as a missed call. I called him back immediately.

"Hey!" a joyful voice on the other side of the line told me Mail was in a pretty good mood.  
"What's up?" I said, equally happy. If I couldn't see him, I could at least talk to him.  
"What's that noise around you?" he asked. Right, the fastlane behind me was quite noisy with cars and trucks.  
"I'm gone for a ride, I finished with my stuff so I'm trying to kill time until tomorrow. I'm on a fastlane's rest area."  
"I see... I've got everything prepared for tomorrow!" he seemed ready to burst of excitement, and it made me smile.  
"I guess you won't tell a word about it?" I teased him.  
"Nope! But since you're done and I'm too, why not hand out for the rest of the day?"  
"Oh, really?" I laughed, "what about your big statement yesterday, that in order to enjoy our date we shouldn't see each other today, just like the groom can't see the bride before the wedding?"  
"We're not getting married yet so just come home already, I'll be waiting for you at your apartment." I couldn't hold it against him, I probably would have gone crazy with the wait until tomorrow.  
"Not yet? Does that mean we will someday?" I couldn't help the tease.  
"Who knows... heh, my mother would probably kill me if she never sees me getting married anyway." he chuckled.  
"Ok, I'm on my way home, should be there in half an hour more or less."  
"'Kay, see ya!"

I had to find the next exit so I could go back on my tracks. I left the spot where I stopped and speeded on the fastlane again. The next exit was only 3 miles away.  
I was sweating like mad. Fucking leather. Drops were now rolling from my forehead into my eyes, great. I took a few seconds to wipe them as I stopped at a red light at the exit, before taking the fastlane in the opposite direction.  
Problem was that the sun was now in my face, and I felt hotter and hotter despite the speed. The leather was sticking to my skin so much that I didn't feel the air anymore.

Only half an hour to go with this nightmare and I'd be under the shower (with Mail, possibly...).  
I sighed of relief when I finally reached the exit that would lead to my place. I blinked hard to get the salty drops out of my eyes but it was stinging more and more, and I couldn't stop to wipe them away, I was riding way too fast to take the risk.

I followed the curve of the exit lane, and just as I slowed down, I felt a bump at the back of my motorcycle. I turned to see what it was and saw that truck behind me, and the driver with eyes dilated and shouting and making big gestures, looking panicked. When I understood it was too late.

The guy couldn't brake and was telling me to get out of the way and using his hand brake to try to slow down but even if the truck actually slowed down bit by bit, it was dangerously coming close to me and he couldn't control anything anymore because of inertia force, and couldn't drive off the road without killing himself on the right, or killing other drivers on the left, so as I was the only one in front of him he just kept on shouting and trying to hold on to the hand brake just long enough each time to slow down without having the truck reverse.

I tried to speed up again, feeling him bump me again, all I could see was that truck's front, huge and dirty and I was suddenly scared shitless because I didn't stand a chance if I didn't get out of this road and the noise of the truck's wheels gripping the concrete was a horrible screech that sounded like a desperate cry to my ears. All I could think off was that I would be late and Mail would be waiting for me, and my parents would have something more to lecture me about if I had an accident.  
But just as I managed to gain some speed (fortunately there was no one in front of me) the light turned red for me at the crossroad where the exit lane ended, and deep down inside I knew I was probably about to die, and that was stupid because Mail had just told me that we may get married someday and that was a pity I couldn't live until that day and...

I blinked one last time to get rid of the droplets that were now not only due to the heat, I was crying even, because I had to choose between stopping at the red light to avoid the cars coming from left and right of the crossroad and getting driven over by the truck I could still hear screeching behind me, or get away from the truck and smash my motorcycle in that pick-up I could see coming perpendicularly.  
At some point I couldn't identify the shouting anymore, whether it was the truck's driver or the pick-up driver that was seeing me coming straight his way, but I decided that I would at least see death face to face, and not just let it stab me in the back, so I speeded up even more.  
I guess it was too much to ask, death isn't probably that sensitive to brave people, because I took the side of the pick-up right with my front wheel, held on as much as I could to my engine trying not to go flying in the air, saw my wheel dislocate, I stupidly watched it roll away, zigzagging, as the rest of my motorcycle slid sideways, my leg crashing in the driver's door of the pick-up, pain and the noise reaching me like if I was out of my body already, because all of this couldn't be happening, and I would make it safe. I had to.

The pick-up stopped abruptly, the harsh stop taking me along as the frame of what was left of the front of my Honda got caught under the car, pulling me with it. I just had time to see the driver run away from his vehicle by the passenger's door and everyone around free the road as fast as they could, and it looked like hours, or slow motion, and the screeching sound of the truck was suddenly so close, so close... I was already sliding under the pick-up, taken along with the pull of the violent stop, wasn't it enough? My lungs refused to work when I saw that dirty 'Barkas' sign on the front of the truck, I wanted to scream because I was so afraid to die, and it was so laughable because I was about to get killed by a german truck and this would have made Mail laugh if it hadn't been so tragic, and maybe the truck would miss me if I was under the pick-up completely but death really wasn't in the mood and the burning metal of the truck's front was suddenly against my shoulder and it pushed me, I was folded like a piece of paper, my lower half sliding on the concrete, caught under the pick-up, my upper half stuck between the truck and the pick-up's driver's door and there was blood from my leg breaking earlier on that door and that was all I could see because I didn't want to look at the truck, it was just a nightmare and my left leg was on fire, scratching the ground and I could feel the bones rake against the cement, and a bang resounded as the pick-up's right side collided with the building on the other side of the pavement and I realised I was about to get reduced to mash between the two vehicles now that the pick-up couldn't go further.  
I blacked out, feeling myself drift, or maybe I was dying, I didn't really know...


	42. Chapter 42

_**Note: **Since the cliffie was very evil, I don't keep you waiting too long for the update :)_  
_Of course, the following chapters will only be from Matt's POV for obvious reasons._

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**Matt  
**I exited Mihael's apartment, strangely very calm. I took the elevator, left the building and stood in the parking lot.  
It's only when I saw the old Ford pull in the parking lot and my mother exit the car, my father on the driver's seat, that I burst into tears in her arms. She was crying too, and my father didn't look in a better shape. She pushed me inside of the rusty vehicle and we left.

_"Mail..."  
"Mum? Mum why are you crying? What happened?"  
"Mail... the hospital called and..."  
"Dad? Did something happen to Dad? Mum tell me!"  
"It's Mihael honey..."  
"NO! Mum! What... oh God no..."_

The hospital called the number that Mihael had last dialled on his cell phone. I had called him from home a little earlier so he had called back on my parents' phone.  
My mother took the call, since I had already left for Mihael's apartment and was waiting for him there, telling myself he was taking longer than he had said since he should have been there for at least 45mn already.  
I wasn't even worried at that point, just impatient because he was probably stuck in traffic. Can you actually be stuck in traffic with a motorcycle?

When she rang me on my cell phone, she was crying so much she could hardly speak, and she tried to explain the call she just got from the hospital between sobs that only made me more anxious. My father, whom she had called first because she was totally unable to call me straight, was on his way to pick her up, and they came for me after that. My father had strictly forbidden that I took my own car.  
I would have been unable to drive anyway. The hospital hadn't said much apparently, just that I needed to come as fast as possible since I was his boyfriend (my mother had had to explain how we were related to Mihael since they couldn't locate any family among the IDs in his phone), and I couldn't help but think that I was going to the hospital to tell him goodbye. They didn't even say if he would make it out alive!

Once we arrived there, a nurse at the counter asked several questions but I didn't want to answer, I just wanted to see him, and they didn't understand, I just wanted to see him damnit!  
My mother gave the answers, although her patience was wearing as thin as mine. Did he have parents? Yes, he had, under 'Eltern' in his cell phone (german for 'parents' but they couldn't figure it out otherwise they would have been the firsts to be called and I was grateful that they hadn't because I may not have known about...), was he allergic to anything? Was he under treatment? Did he take drugs? Did I think he was drunk when he got the accident? _No! No! No! Please, just let me see him!_

"The parents speak english, yeah?" the nurse asked at some point while my mother was giving as much informations as she could for the files.  
His parents were supposed to be here the day after tomorrow, my mum told her.  
"I hope he can make it until then..." the nurse murmured to herself, but we all heard...

We were sent in a waiting room filled with patients and families, some in the same state as we were in. I was crying silently, my head buried in my hands. My father went several times to the counter but the nurse sent him back to his place each time. Mihael was in surgery, no, we couldn't see him now, no, she didn't know about his state, no, she didn't know if he would live. Compassion wasn't her thing obviously. But I guess working in a place like this... you can't let yourself feel for the patients or you just go insane.

A doctor with a very serious face came to us more than five hours later, as I was beginning to break down in the middle of the hospital's emergency waiting room as the nurse told us she had called Mihael's parents and they had made a scandal because she had told them I was there already.  
"Are you Mihael Keehl's family?" he asked. The nurse replied to him loudly from her counter:  
"Actually it's the boyfriend and the boyfriend's parents and..." she stopped cold under my mother's gaze, whose voice came up all of a sudden, cold like I've never heard her before: "If you're about to tell us that only the family is allowed, just don't, because if my son is not allowed to see his boyfriend immediately, God help me, I'll lead him to Mihael's room on your dead bodies."  
My father blinked several times while looking at her, and the doctor didn't try her a single second. "Follow me. But be prepared, it's... you may have a shock."  
I followed like an automat, my mother holding my arm, almost supporting my weight as I stumbled. I was about to faint, as I saw the "mortuary room" sign with an arrow showing the direction we were going in.  
I looked at my mother, then at my father, and I collapsed.

I woke up being slapped. It was my mother, and I was half on the floor in my father's arms.  
"Mail. Mail. Wake up. Stand up. Now." I've never seen my mother like this, she was emotionless, her face was so hard, her voice so cold...  
I got back on my feet but my legs were shaking so badly that my father kept an arm around my waist to help me walk.  
"He's alive." the doctor said.  
"Why didn't you begin by that?" my father snarled, making the man cringe.  
"This way please." the doctor was suddenly way more cooperative and knowing that Mihael was alive, I managed to stay on my feet alone.

My parents were not allowed in the room though, so I had to enter alone after an admonition from the nurse who had been following, that I wasn't supposed to be here, that Mihael's parents were against it, but the doctor shut her up at some moment saying that he was in charge now, and would face the consequences, not her.

I wasn't prepared to see _that_, even with the doctor's warning. No one is ever prepared to something like that.  
I was unable to tell if it was him, under all those bandages, with all the tubes and the respiratory help and the machine with the green lines and the few skin I could see that was not a normal colour and the bloody, broken and torn nails. All that was left of Mihael was some blond strands falling out of the bandages. Even his head was covered, I barely could see his closed right lid. Even this part was that awful shade of purple...  
But his chest was rising and falling and he was _alive_. That's all I wanted to think about right now, he was still here with me, no matter the injuries, the recovery, whatever would happen next. I wanted him even broken, even disabled... just alive was enough.

I was only allowed five minutes, and I just kept on staring. I barely called his name, but he didn't respond. How could he? He was in an artificial coma, the nurse told me as she pushed me out of the room without ceremony when the five minutes ended.

I stood still a few seconds before sitting on the nearest chair, lined with several others along the wall like a makeshift waiting room. My body kept its calm although feelings were raging inside of me. I didn't know how to handle the fear, the worry, the emotional pain, so I tried to shut them up because I didn't have the right to be a wreck when Mihael was in that state. But it made me unable to move further so I just sat there and listened as my parents enquired about Mihael to the doctor. He was reluctant at first because he wasn't supposed to tell all of that to others than family, but somehow he softened when I looked at him desperately.

But the more informations I heard, the less I could process them.  
I had already registered the detail of his various injuries, both legs broken, the left one's skin badly torn off, that would need a skin graft if it didn't heal correctly, left arm broken, left clavicle broken, right hand broken, almost all ribs broken... as well as how it had happened, from what some witnesses had said to the police and ambulance. And the truck and pick-up drivers had been questioned by the police several hours earlier.

Then the doctor began to explain how apparently his helmet had broken in two under the pressure of the truck from one side and the car on the other side, since witnesses had said that he kept his helmet on until the truck was on him and fell off after the truck hit him before stopping. The helmet parts just flew away, Mihael totally fell on the ground as the truck came to a stop because of the light backward movement of the vehicle in the process, but the pick-up lost some gas and Mihael's motorcycle's back wheel was still in movement, the rubber scratching the ground set the gas on fire and if the truck's driver hadn't come out with a carbonic extinguisher, the whole thing would have exploded.

He blithered about how the helmet saved his life like in a badly done traffic security advertisement, the truck stopped just when it hit Mihael and he has a guardian angel looking after him and bla bla bla because if the truck hadn't stopped...

And that's when I realised how bad it really was. What Mihael had gone through. That he could have really died.  
I rushed back into the room before anyone could stop me, and just took his hand. His blueish hand, the one that wasn't broken, and it looked so fragile in mine...

The doctor came to me very kindly, and touched my shoulder.  
"I know it's difficult, but it won't change anything if you stay here, he can't hear or feel anything... we had to induce the coma because he would be in such an excruciating pain that even the painkillers wouldn't be enough, and one rib almost pierced through the lungs so it's better if he doesn't move at all. And as long as we don't know what the exact damage to his mental abilities is..."  
"What?" I cut him. So the damage wasn't only physical?  
"He had a lot of pressure on his skull, and there's a crack on the back of his cranial bone. The helmet fortunately reduced the damage but still, the few minutes when he was awake just before surgery, he wasn't coherent and if he was to have violent reactions, it would do no good to his state right now."

I held Mihael's hand against my chest, I just couldn't let go.  
"I'm sorry..." the man whispered.  
"How long?" I hiccuped, trying not to scream my pain. It was not only emotional now, I felt it _physically_.  
"The recovery? Months, he won't be able to leave before months... but only time and his own willpower will tell..."  
"Before he wakes up."  
"It will depend on how good the major injuries heal... when we can have him awake without a risk for himself..."  
"What did he say?" I know it was a stupid thing to ask, but I wanted to know what his last words were.  
"He kept on repeating that he had a date and we'd better clean all the blood because he couldn't go like that... and a few swears directed to the anaesthetist that I won't repeat. I also believe he spoke german at some point, I didn't know but since he is german, I guess that's what it was. I can't tell you what he said though. It's even a miracle that he was conscious at some point..."  
I chuckled despite the emotional pain. Even almost dead, Mihael was Mihael...

The doctor let me stay some more, seeing that I wouldn't move. But when he came to make me leave for good I refused. I fell on my knees beside the bed, still holding Mihael's hand, I was sobbing and bawling that I wouldn't leave him. There was no way I would.

The doctor seemed helpless, and my mother convinced him to let me stay. He abdicated.  
My parents waited all night on the chairs along the wall, one of them checking on me from time to time. My mother tried to force me to eat or drink but I refused everything. I just stayed there on my knees, head resting on the bed, Mihael's hand on my cheek.

When morning came, I was still awake, I hadn't moved from my position. I jumped on my feet when I felt Mihael's hand so cold against my cheek. It was kind of normally hot a few hours ago but now it was ice cold.  
I calmed down a bit when I saw his chest rise and fall evenly, and the monitor showing no sign of distress, just the regular beeps and green curves.

The nurse entered not long after, telling me it was seven and that I had to get out at least for the time she would take care of the bandages and clean him. But no one could make me move out, and I stared every of her moves, and most of all, every part of Mihael's damaged body.  
The state he was in was the reason why she would have preferred that I got out. Maybe I should have, but it was too late, I was stuck to the floor.

The more I looked, the more I wanted to vomit. It wasn't Mihael anymore, it was just charred skin and torn off flesh, blood and lymph and stitches, blue, purple, yellow marks.  
The nurse glanced at me from time to time, making sure I wouldn't pass out, because I probably looked like I would. My stomach was in my throat, my heart had almost stopped beating although I could feel blood pressure hammer in my temples, I was too hot but my hands and feet felt frozen, and I was beginning to be dizzy.

But when she went for the gauze around Mihael's head, I supported my weight on the wall behind me. It was just... My God, it was awful...  
The first thing I saw was his lower lip split in half on the left. Where he hit the cement.  
Then the bruises around his right eye, extended to the cheek bone. Where the helmet had pressured the bones.  
The nurse look hesitant. "Please, leave, it won't do no good if you see that."  
I gritted my teeth but didn't move. So, shaking her head, she began to unwrap the rest of Mihael's face.

The hair on the left side was burnt, bloody. The nurse didn't care about that and just brushed it away with her fingers to get them out of the way, so she could pat the wound clean.  
I suddenly ran to the bathroom. It was too much, too much.

My mother ran to me when she saw me reach the bathroom, but she didn't miss the sight of Mihael's half ruined face as she passed by the bed. She was crying while helping me stand straight.  
I cleaned my mouth and my mum made sure that the nurse had finished covering Mihael's face before she pushed me out of the bathroom, only to find myself nose to nose with Mihael's parents.  
They had taken the first flight to LA. I had totally forgotten about them. To me they barely were part of his life anyway.


	43. Chapter 43

**_Note: _**_I had amazing reviews lately, it's just crazy that what was supposed to be a short crack-fic became that huge thing. I'm living surrounded by plot bunnies, and they're gnawing at my feet constantly, thus the daily updates... _  
_special message: Fingers crossed for ryuzaki-will-live-on's bf.  
_

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**Matt**  
They were at the bedroom's door, and even if Mr Keehl didn't look completely hostile, simply concerned by his son lying in the bed, the look Mrs Keehl sent me... I didn't oppose when my mother pulled me out of the room to leave Mihael's parents alone with the doctor who was accompanying them.  
I sat on a chair outside, barely hearing murmurs through the closed door. It seemed to last for ages, and I just wanted to be with Mihael.  
I jumped on my feet when they finally exited. Mrs Keehl wasn't even crying, not a sob, no red eyes, just an impassible face, and it almost surprised me, because I would have thought that even a heartless-looking person like her was like any other mother. I had almost categorised her as inhuman, with the few I had seen of her in Berlin, which hadn't been under the best light, and I was kind of comforted in that thought right now...  
I tried to convince myself that she was just in shock and trying to keep a composure...

I peered inside, eager to come back beside Mihael, but the words she spat at my face...  
"Don't you come near him you little sh..." she stopped just in time, glanced at my parents that had stood up behind me and swallowed back the nasty word she was about to say, "Don't you dare entering this room again, you're no family, you're nothing and I want you to leave him alone or I'll call the cops on you!"  
"Mrs Keehl, please..." my father began. I was speechless, unable to utter a word, staring at her mouth hanging open.  
"I don't want to hear what you have to say, we are the parents thus the only ones able to take decisions for him, and I don't want him around, never!" she pointed at me with her chin disgustingly.  
My father had just time to grab my mother's arm, his eyes silently begging her not to aggravate things.  
Mr Keehl pushed his wife forward, and turned to my father, handing out a professional card to him. "Please call me on my mobile phone tonight, so we can talk." he whispered out of ear of his wife.  
My father took the card and nodded.

My parents all but forced me to the car to go back home, once the Keehls were gone. Now that they had been here physically and stated face to face with the doctor that they didn't want me around, the doctor was inflexible.  
It was going against the law as long as Mihael wasn't awake and able to say he wanted to see me and the doctor insisted that he had already allowed too much before they arrived. I was sure that Mrs Keehl wouldn't hesitate to call the cops on me, just as she had said. Bitch.

My mother sent me to the shower while she prepared lunch, and then she forced me to eat. Then she sent me to bed even if it was only noon.  
I was awfully tired, but unable to sleep. Each time I dozed off I had awful nightmares of Mihael dying.  
I cried hours long, and finally dragged my feet into the living room, letting myself fall on a chair, my head resting on the table.  
My father had stayed home although he had work to do, that said a lot about the situation. My mother sat beside me and took me in her arms, and I started crying again.  
It felt like life had stopped, like the whole world had come to a stop, waiting for something, anything, to make things better so the pain could go away a bit, just so we could resume living.

It had been hours that my father had been sitting face to my mother and me, turning and returning Mr Keehl's card between his fingers, and glancing at the clock.  
When it ticked 7pm, he grabbed the phone and called.  
He put the speaker on so we could all hear.  
First thing was that Mihael's father didn't agree with his wife and apologised for her. They would stay until the moment they were supposed to be gone initially, not changing the reservation Mihael had made for them on tuesday. Mr Keehl had an important seminar to attend to and couldn't miss it since he was one of the main organisers, and had persuaded his wife not to stay here alone.  
He said he would make sure I was allowed to see Mihael after their departure but that it was better if I didn't show up at the hospital until wednesday.  
He would call if there was any change to Mihael's state until then.  
And that was all. I would be unable to see Mihael until wednesday... that's all that was looping in my head. Unable to see him for days.

So I ran. Upstairs to grab my car keys, realised it was still parked in the parking of Mihael's apartment lot, downstairs, outside, my father running after me but he gave up when I disappeared at the corner of the street. He knew it was useless.  
I ran until I couldn't breathe, my lungs burning, walked, took a bus without paying, and finally got to my Camaro.  
I drove straight to the hospital. They kindly asked me to leave the first time I tried to get in, they yelled the second time I forced my way, called the security the third time and threw me harshly on the pavement the fourth one.  
I got back to my car, I wasn't myself anymore. I was furious, desperate, losing my mind even.

I drove to the hotel where the Keehls were staying, Mihael had told me where he had booked for them so even if they had arrived a day early, I assumed they were at the same. And I was right, and lucky, because the way I looked, the guy at the counter would have never called them for me, I looked sweaty, dishevelled, insane in the middle of the luxurious lobby, so when I spotted them exiting the hotel's restaurant through the glass bay, I ran to them before anyone could stop me. With the security guy on my tracks, I laid into them violently.  
"Why can't you just accept things as they are? I probably love him more than you will ever do, and using your authority to forbid me access won't stop him from being gay! I love him, can't you understand that? I love him!"  
I couldn't go on, I was crying too hard, and all the people around with their shocked expressions, I wanted to hit them.

"Let's go somewhere private." Mr Keehl grabbed my arm and pulled me along as he walked past the security guy, nodding to him to tell it was fine. Mrs Keehl was about to say something but he cut her straight in german. I didn't understand but she didn't say a word after that and followed. He obtained a private booth in the hotel's bar and almost pushed me in the red sofa, sitting face to me, motioning to his wife to do the same with a cold glare.  
I could see she was infuriated but was shutting her big mouth only to preserve her image in that fancy hotel.

"What do you think you're doing, young man?" Mihael's father asked me, his face severe.  
I stared at him for a few seconds. All of this and he didn't understand? Wasn't it his son laid in that hospital's bed? Oh wait, he was the type to go on with his work when his son was badly injured, what did I expect from such a person?  
"If you don't understand why I'm doing all of this, then it's useless to explain, you don't have what it takes to understand." I was bitter, mean, but they deserved it. Those people were heartless bastards.  
Mr Keehl was taken aback, but where I thought he or his wife would reply some nasty comment and send me back where I came from, he simply said: "Well, I guess we deserve this quite a bit...".  
Mrs Keehl opened wide eyes but he sent her a glare, and she kept silent.  
He sighed and laid against the back of the sofa. The waiter arrived to take orders and Mr Keehl asked for three coffees.  
"Drink." he told me once we all had a steamy cup of the liquid in front of us, "You look like you need it."  
The tone was less hard on me, and Mihael's mother was still silent, which surprised me, so he did all the talking.

"Don't think we don't love him... it's just... difficult." he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
I don't know why I said that, but it seemed to me that if it had been possible for me, then there was hope for them too. "You know... I was a homophobe before I met Mihael. I didn't want to be near him, I was disgusted by people like him... see how he changed me. He's just the most beautiful person in the world. He kind of forced himself on me until I just couldn't be without him anymore, he's just that amazing... so why? Why can't you see that? I don't understand how his own parents can refuse to accept him as he is, and why he never managed to change your mind..."  
Mrs Keehl opened her mouth but closed it. Whatever she wanted to say didn't pass her lips as her husband laid his palm flat on her arm.

Mr Keehl stayed silent for a while too, trying to find his words.  
"From the few I've seen, you are very close to your parents so it probably looked strange to you, the way we interact with Mihael. I admit it wasn't under very nice circumstances, the first time we met, and we didn't treat you right, and I apologise for that. But every family is different..."  
He sipped his coffee, and went on: "We are not the kind to show feelings, be touchy or other displays of affection, I've been raised like that by my parents, so does my wife, so we unconsciously reproduce the same pattern with Mihael. But this has nothing to do with the fact he prefers other boys. It's another story and..."  
That's when Mrs Keehl decided to cut the silence she was walled in since the beginning.  
"That's none of his business Karl!" she growled.

"I don't care what it is actually," I replied, glaring at her, "all I know is that the way you treat him is not right, you hurt him and then you try to protect him from me, nothing's logical in this. If you can't accept what he is, at least don't stop him from being happy. You never came here until now, he's spending all his time with me and this is _serious_, we're not fuck-buddies or whatever you seem to think about me, I love him, truly. So for his best interest I suggest we stop fighting over him. No matter what the problem is between you and him, he invited you here, he even bought you presents, he's trying hard, so maybe it's time you make a step toward him, don't you think so?"  
"I have to admit that you're a smart boy, Mail. I misjudged you although I should have known that with the bright mind that is Mihael, his boyfriend would be all the same. I'm also forced to admit that you're being more reasonable than we are on the matter."  
"Karl that's enough, we don't have any obligation toward that little brat, why are you even discussing terms with him, just cut if off already! We decided that it was best he didn't show up to the hospital anymore, and since we are going to bring Mihael back in Germany on tuesday and it's going to take months before he can ever think to come back to Los Angeles, he'll have forgotten his stupid little crush in the meanwhile."

I stared at Mr Keehl. So if I hadn't been here talking to them, I would have come back to the hospital on wednesday to find out that they had taken Mihael back in Germany? My heart sank to my feet.  
I stood up, anger boiling in me so strongly that I was shaking. "So it was all lies! You lied to my father just so I wouldn't cause any trouble until you could runaway with him!"  
Mr Keehl had been trying to buy me from the beginning, playing the nice guy that repents, I was just so sorry for Mihael, who deserves parents like that?  
But most of all, even above the fact that they had been playing my whole family, I was alarmed by the fact that they would transport Mihael on such a long distance in the state he was in. I know they had money, connections and stuff but it was just totally insane, risking Mihael's health like that!  
"Why didn't you just shut up!" Mr Keehl spat to his wife. The little plan was revealed, crap?

"So you want things to go that way. No problem, if we have to fight, I'll fight. But remember: you started with lies so don't expect me to play fair." And on that, I was gone.

While I was driving, everything was setting into place in my mind. The plan I was about to set in motion needed that I took care of Mihael's health being threatened before everything. I suspected they had greased the doctor's palm to get the authorisation to move Mihael because it was _impossible_that Mihael's state allowed such a long distance flight, be it in a special plane or whatever they did medically speaking.

I went home, told everything to my parents about what just happened, had to stop my father to call the Keehls to tell them what he thought about them since it would do no good, explained my plan, got some pretty good advice from my mum, and got hugged by my father who whispered in my ear that he was proud of me.

From that moment, I didn't feel like crying once. I had a rage in me, a will to protect Mihael that made me burn from the inside. Most things were against me: his family had all authority concerning him as long as he was unconscious, I had no say in the matter. Our relationship was labelled homosexual so it wasn't the best position to be taken seriously by most people. I didn't have the money they had and couldn't grease anyone's palm, so I would have to relay on honest and helping hands. And I didn't even trust justice enough to be on the good side.

I strangely slept well that night, no dreams, no nightmares, just a deep sleep.  
I was up at 6am, found all the numbers I had to call on the internet, and got ready while I was waiting that it was at least 8 to start calling those numbers.


	44. Chapter 44

**_Note: _**_Since I seem to have haters (hello dear fake account, your insults and flames were much laughed at ^^), I now also have the fantastic xxbeyondxbirthdayxx Pom Pom Girls! Gimme a X! Gimme a X! Gimme a B! XD  
I love you girls! (Wanna join the crew? search for 'Xxbeyondxbirthdayxx PomPom Girls, the MattxMello cheerleaders' on Facebook! Just for the LOLz and the love of our two boys! I may submit chapters I need advice on from time to time, but it's mostly to discuss MxM and DN related stuff.) _

_I'd like to thank two of the xxbeyondxbirthdayxx Pom Pom Girls for their help with this chapter, the lovely Mello aka HeavenCat and SadisticSugi! I had some doubts with it and they kindly confirmed that I had fucked up XD. So I rewrote 3/4 of it, which obviously makes me have to rewrite 45 as well (yes, it was already written -_-)  
Buuut it doesn't change anything to the story, and the same's going to happen, just a tad bit less easily for Matt to set his plan in motion (you can't always be lucky!)  
And in the end that makes two chapters more because it's way more developped, so all in all I guess it's a good point :)  
_

* * *

**Matt  
**I was probably a little too optimistic about my plan, when I made my first call. The second wasn't much better. I was turned down each time and I was beginning to fear that I could not make it to the first part of my plan. So the rest would never see light. It's always the same, theoretically things look easy, but once set in motion, they quickly find all the bumps and rocks on the road.

I kept on calling, going through all the yellow pages list of lawyers in LA, and they were quite a bit.

When I said things were against me, I hadn't realised how much. I didn't have money, so I was of no interest to the people I called. Helping hands weren't legion and I was slowly realising that my lack of faith in people's honesty and kindness was founded. You should expect people that studied to defend others to have some appeal for humanism, but actually the appeal is more financial than anything.

But I wouldn't stop just at the beginning. University. University had what I needed. I assume.  
Looking for my agenda from the previous scholar year, I lit a cigarette. I wasn't supposed to smoke here, or anywhere in the house, but I didn't care at that point.  
I spotted the item in a drawer with the pink bunny. That brought tears to my eyes but I set the memories aside, it wasn't time for that.  
I flipped through the pages to find the general informations note I had somewhere in there and dialled the number of the Law department of UCLA once I found it, hoping that someone would reply although the holidays hadn't ended yet. But of course, it rang without an answer. Oh right, it was sunday today...

When I parked at my usual place at Uni, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was hard, so hard not to relive the moments shared with Mihael here. Stop. If I ever let myself dwell on that, I'd become a wreck again in no time. I was just grateful I had the strength in me right now to set things aside before I started to cry again. It's not that I didn't care or worry anymore, but I couldn't allow myself to.

I walked to the Law department, trying to spot someone in the other aisles in the meanwhile, but there wasn't anyone at this moment of the summer holidays, especially not on a sunday. I found a panel with informations that I could see through the glass door. Squinting my eyes to be able to read it in the distance, I noted a few numbers and immediately tried the first one.  
Damn, it was tough. He practically hung up to my nose after calling me names. You don't want to help, ok, no need to be so fucking rude!  
Second call was even worse. The guy lectured me about calling on a sunday, about asking for help for free ("Do you think people work for free young man? Ah young people these days have no idea..." blablabla).  
One thing certain, if I ever want to change my major, it won't be law. I wouldn't want to study with such jerks.

I was still nowhere after that. Ok, I wouldn't find much help on a sunday, but I didn't have the fucking time to wait for tomorrow, so what now?  
I sat in my car, door open, smoking cigarette on cigarette. There must be a way. I can't wait tomorrow, because tomorrow only leaves me with twenty four hours to do something. Twenty four hours to find a way to keep Mihael here in LA. Or even to keep him alive... What if the respirator stops during the flight? What if the emergency battery doesn't work? What if there's too many jolts while they're flying and with the crack in his skull... SHIT!

I shook my head like if the morbid thoughts would fall off my brain by the ears. I could feel a lump in my throat, and my hands become cold. It wasn't the time to feel weak, I had some serious thinking to do. So I breathed deeply. Cigarettes helped me to keep anxiety at bay, but I was starting to think that a good shot of strong alcohol may help. No getting drunk, just a strong boost... No. Let's forget it, that's stupid.

Tapping the stirring wheel, my own nervousness was going in the way of my thinking process, which made me even more nervous. Great.  
Where would I find help? I had already mailed all possible online legal aid but they stated a reply in 48 to 72 hours. I had tried to call many lawyers but most of the firms were closed, and the few secretaries I had on the phone took a message but I had few chances to be called back with such a case.

Desperate, I went to the police.

The policeman looked so bored when I explained my case that I wanted to strangle him.  
He only told me that I could lodge a complaint, but there wasn't much chance that the prosecuting attorney cared about that, because he got hundred of complaints and from what I was saying, Mihael was in a good hospital, Doctor Zimmerman was renowned so he couldn't be a bad guy (what's the point?) and the parents were taking full charge so I had no legal value in the story. Hum, thanks, second time I'm told I'm nothing...

I filed my complaint since I couldn't do much more at that point, even if I didn't have any idea if that was a good thing to do. Ok, I knew about the process: go to the police, lodge a complaint, complaint submitted to the prosecutor, prosecutor decides to deal with it or shelve it. If the prosecuting attorney decides to take the complaint seriously, then he meets the plaintiff and the opponent, and still can decide to shelve the file. If he doesn't, then in my case the counter expertise of Mihael's case is demanded.  
That was about all I could get on the internet.

I was legal concerning the law, someone's health was put in danger and if I had any doubt, I had the right to distrain the law for a second medical advice. That's what comforted me in doing this. I had the right to do it so I had to take the chance.  
If Mihael left the US, of course I knew that he would be back as soon as he could, but it would take months and he could even not make it during the flight to Berlin, which was my biggest fear far beyond not being able to see him for months. I could deal, even if hardly, with a temporary separation, but not with the loss.

Of course, it wouldn't be easy, and I could be backslapped very hard by justice if it went unto the counter expertise and nothing wrong was found, because not only would I have to pay for the other side's expenses, but I would face a penal prosecution for false accusations. And I was sure the 'other side' would not hesitate a single second to prosecute me. They probably even had their own personal lawyer and if he had the same moral as them, I was doomed.  
But I'd sign a pact with my blood with anyone willing to help me at this point so well, no choice.

I went home around noon after my mum had called me to check on me, and of course she forced some food down my throat. She seemed extremely worried, and I understood why when I went to brush my teeth and saw my face in the mirror. I was usually fair skinned but now I was so pale I looked like dead. I had dark circles under my eyes and looked awfully tired. Sick even.

I checked my emails but there was nothing.  
My mum came past my bedroom's open door as I was smoking at the window. She shook her head when she saw me, but she didn't say anything. I think she didn't say anything because of the situation, but I was pretty sure that if... when this would be sorted out, I would hear about that.

I checked my mailbox again a hundred times but suddenly just fell asleep on my desk. When I woke up, it was around 6pm.  
All this was wearing me out. But still no email.  
I was like a lion in a cage. I called again, all the list on the yellow pages. I lost my temper, cried on the phone, insulted a few people, threatened a few others, but it didn't touch anyone in the slightest. At least it made me feel a bit better to tell them what I thought about their non existent sense of humanity.  
I suddenly felt so alone, so lost, even if my parents supported me, they couldn't help much further.  
It was David against Goliath, and Goliath had a lot of money. All I had was my willpower to protect Mihael and my brain.

It wasn't a movie, the good wouldn't win against the bad. Not if I didn't give myself means to counter attack.

I went to my parents in the living room. I felt horrible for asking that, but I was so hopeless I had to. But they didn't have much money, and although they assured me that they would do their best to help me, they couldn't give me much. They obviously couldn't pay a lawyer. Of course, I expected that... but I think I expected some kind of miracle nonetheless.

I helped my mother in the kitchen so I could talk with her, she had always a good advice to give me. Except that she didn't have one this time. Everyone here was helpless. Time was passing and we didn't have a fucking clue about what we had to do.

I took my car after dinner and just drove. I eventually passed by the hospital. I stopped, staring at the façade, but quickly resumed driving before I made something stupid.

A drink. I wanted that shot of anything strong now. Just so maybe it would make the lump in my throat disappear. Swallowing was painful. Walking was painful. Everything was.  
I first took the direction of the glaucous bar I went to, some months ago. But I decided against it. I didn't want to face those girls, I didn't want to think about what had brought me here in the beginning.

On my way home I saw the lights of the club where Mihael had worked. Everything seemed to remind me of him.  
Not really knowing why, I parked in from of the disco and entered. I was even surprised they let me in with the way I looked.  
I sat at the bar and ordered vodka. Just one shot, alone.  
The barman looked at me several times before snapping.  
"Hey, you're Mello's friend, right?"  
Mello... I never called him that although I knew about the nickname. He had told me once but we never used our nicknames, I wouldn't want him to call me Matt. Except now, he could call me anything as long as he was here with me...  
"Yeah..." I replied, making a sign to get my glass filled a second time. I gulped the shot and just kept on staring at the wood of the bar in front of me.  
"Long time we didn't see him around, he quit but I thought he'd come to say hello at least..." he went on. Couldn't he just shut up?  
It was early so there weren't a lot of customers around, maybe twenty people to the most, so he kept on making conversation with me, or at least trying to since I was far from responding.  
"Are you just friends-friends or...?" he asked, "because I remember seeing him with tha t guy and the same night you kissed him and you looked pretty shitfaced so... well, just wondering if I have my chances if I drop him a call, his number is still in the restroom on the employees' list so..."  
I got my glass filled again. Once more. And again.  
Talk about doing something stupid... I was now pretty drunk, snuggling with my dear friend the bar, my head resting on my arm. It was even more stupid that this would cost me quite a bunch of tenners, clubs don't sell strong alcohol for cheap.

When I asked for a sixth shot, the barman refused: "You had your share, I won't serve you anything but water or juice now." The bar had strict rules.  
I stared at him and I wanted to punch him. I was clear enough to know I wouldn't be able to, but drunk enough to be verbally stupid.  
"Just serve me that shot already, you fag..."  
"Who are you calling a fag douchebag?" the barman looked puzzled. Being called a fag by a guy you saw kiss another guy, how ironic.  
I tried to stand up. "You, me, whatever..." I stuttered, throwing bills on the counter.  
I grabbed my keys I had carelessly left on the bar and tried to walk to the exit of the club.  
The barman ran around the wooden counter and pulled me back in: "No way! You're not going anywhere, I'll call you a taxi."  
"Leave me... alone." I was dizzy. I didn't oppose when he made me sit at the bar again, I was unable to stay on my feet anyway, "What m'I doing here... in the first place..." I mumbled, "This... place's so gay..."  
"Well, that's the point, smartass." the other barman, who was taking his shift at that instant, spat at me with his thick spanish accent, pushing a glass of water in front of me.

"My boyfr...iend's a boy, y'know" I was pretty well pissed right now.  
Both looked at me with a sneer. I gave them a crooked smile and kept on making a fool of myself, "I got that... pink bunny and... and I'm not g...gay... b...but he's got... a dick y'know... and..."  
"What the fuck dude, look at you! You're so pathetic, don't drink if you can't hold your liquor man!" Barman Number One told me, scoffing, "We don't care if you suck dick or not, just get a hold of yourself, you're fucking ridiculous!".  
"But he's fucking cute." Spanish Barman added, "If he wasn't shitfaced I'd give it a go but I don't do stupid kids that can't have fun without boiling themselves."  
"I'm not... having fun you dumb...ass, I'm..." I was crying now, much to their surprise, "It hurts! It fucking hurts!"  
I was beginning to feel clearer now and all the pain, all the worry were coming back. But I was still drunk enough to be unable to get a grip, and I was now breaking down in front of total strangers.  
"Great, here's the official nutcase of the evening." Number One sighed going back to his customers.  
"Heh, you can't blame him, it always hurts the first time!" Spanish Boy laughed, "No need to put yourself in a state like this, it will get better sweetie." He patted the back of my hand and kept on laughing as he finished cleaning some glasses.  
My system evacuated the vodka little by little, and little by little I noticed people around me, looking at me with pity as they came to fetch drinks at the bar. I peered above my shoulder at the dancefloor but it made me feel sick to see them move in rhythm.  
Alcohol made me feel sick, people watching made me feel sick, this situation made me feel sick. And I exploded.

"He's gonna die!" I was shaking under the force of my sobs, "I'm trying to fight but he's gonna die!"  
I fell from my stool, hitting the border of the bar with my head in the process, and I landed on my knees with my eyebrow arch bleeding. I didn't even notice until someone began to pat the wound with a tissue.  
"Look what you've done to yourself... come on." The person pulled me on my feet and almost carried me to a couch in a corner, helping me sit.  
"Drink that." Spanish Boy deposited a cup of coffee in front of me. He crouched, looking at me, "You gonna be ok?"  
Both barmen seemed genuinely worried, as well as the person that was trying to stop the blood above my eye.  
"I... don't know what to do..." I kept on crying, I just couldn't stop myself.  
"Do you want to tell us what's wrong?" the unknown person asked kindly.  
"Who's gonna die? What are you trying to fight for?" Number One enquired, bringing some more tissues.  
They were all so kind with me now, it just made me weep even more.


	45. Chapter 45

**Matt  
**After two strong coffees, I was able to get a hold of myself, sort of. Spanish Boy had applied some ice on my eyebrow arch, the blood had stopped as well as the throbbing pain and he stuck some band aid above my eye, depositing a kiss like adults do with a hurt kid.  
"There, it's all good now." he smiled.  
I was so tired that I had a hard time gathering my thoughts, but I finally managed to explain.  
The two barmen were shocked to learn about Mihael's accident, since they knew him.

"Man, that's pretty bad as a situation..." the customer that had helped me on the couch murmured at some point, "I wish I knew a lawyer or someone to help you... I'm only a salesman at the mall, can't do much to help..."  
"Wait!" Spanish Boy suddenly shouted before running to the counter.  
He climbed on it, grabbing the microphone they had under there for various announcements, as Number One cut the music, making everyone come to a halt in whatever they were doing and stare in their direction.

"Ladies and gentlemen... hum, gentlemen and gentlemen preferably..." he chuckled, "We have a problem. Most of you probably remember the sexy kitten working here a few weeks ago, aka Mello..."  
A wave of whistles and approbative shouts rose among the customers, proving Mello's fame in the place. I couldn't help but smile. Mello had been an attraction here.  
"Ok, listen, the sexy kitten's a bit in need of help, and so is his boyfriend, the cute redhead out there..."  
Hum, I was quite uneasy when all eyes turned to me...  
"Yeah yeah I know, that's a sad thing to hear that Mello's taken... but please, let's get back to the point. I'm kidding around a bit but that's serious here people." he continued shouting in the microphone, "Mello's in hospital between life and death right now, and to make it short, his life is endangered by his parents that want to bring him back to Germany although he's probably not in a state that allows such a travel. His boyfriend is in need of a lawyer, a free one that is, that can help him distrain the law to prove that it's a crazy thing to do. I know it's complicated, but we need a real helping hand now."

Spanish Boy jumped off the counter and walked to me.  
"Please, look at that poor boy, he's been crying his eyes out all night, he's suffering. Is there no one here who is a lawyer or knows one? Please, people, please..."  
Everyone was speaking low to each other, but there were no real reaction to the calling, except looks of pity.  
"Shall I add that Mello's parents only reason for bringing him back to Germany is because they are antigay and want to separate the happy couple?"  
A wave of protest rose, and suddenly someone came closer and spoke.

"I'm no lawyer but I think I can help... I mean, I'm into the Equality California association and there's probably a way to get one, there's a lot of people in there..."  
I looked at the guy. He was quite tall, black hair, nicely cut, in what was left of a suit since his jacket and tie had gone. Sharp hazel eyes looked at me with sincerity, and... I began to cry again.  
I was a real mess but all that was happening, the help, the support, was finally giving me the hope I had almost lost.  
I stood and he handed out his hand to me, which I shook gratefully.  
"My name's Jeremy." he smiled.

We talked for hours. The barmen filled me with coffee to make sure I would get back to sober before I drove again, and Jeremy explained to me that he had been a gay rights activist for as long as he had understood he was gay, and entered Equality California when he arrived here from Texas. It explained the thick accent. He had been marked by the homophobe hostility of the little town he lived in there and wanted to do something to make things change.

Around 3am I thought it was time to go home, I had difficulties to keep my eyes open. Jeremy even followed with his own car to make sure I would make it safe.

This simple encounter opened the door to all that would be following next, because I had learned something that would serve my interests better than by knocking at people's door counting on kindness: talk to people of your kind. And my actual kind was gay people. Count on a pariah part of the society to be the best fighters for their likes.

My mother called me when I was parking in front of our old building so I didn't pick up the call and climbed the stairs so she would see I was home. I hugged her and kissed her cheek, keeping her in my arms.  
"Thank you for being who you are mum... Mihael's not that lucky but we'll make up for it".  
She smiled, erased a tear from the corner of her eyes, and told me to sit while she went to make some coffee because she wanted to know where I had disappeared and what happened for me to look so much better.  
"No coffee for me, I drank a lot already."  
"So, tell me everything sweetheart." she sat beside me and put her hand on mine, eagerly waiting for me to speak.

I told her every detail, the persons I had met, the plan, what would happen in the following days, everything.  
She nodded from time to time but didn't interrupt me once.  
"How do you feel now?" she asked once I was done.  
"Better, there is hope..."  
"No, I mean, do you feel gay now? You've been elaborating plans with all those persons and they're all gay, and it's precisely the point, they feel more inclined to help you because they see you as gay too, so, do you feel gay?" she explained.  
"I don't feel anything but worry, pain, the want to fight, and hope, right now, I cannot answer your question because I just don't have my mind set on that matter, it's not what's important for the moment." I didn't think it was something to be discussed now, it looked so tiny compared to the matter at hand right now!  
"I'm not asking you lightly Mail, but because if you're playing on that level to gain help, it's not honest if you don't accept yourself as gay and just leave people to guess you are because you date Mihael."  
"I know... but I still can't say I consider myself gay now. All I can say is that I'm engaged in a homosexual relationship. Does it make me homosexual. I don't know. I don't care now Mum, so just... let's discuss that when I've sorted the important things out ok?"  
I knew that she was only trying to make sure I stayed on the right, but it was just not the right time now.  
I'd deal with the devil if I had to, so playing gay even if I didn't feel I was really wasn't my problem right now.

I went to bed, and even if I felt a bit better, it didn't prevent me from crying myself to sleep.

In the morning, as planned, I met Jeremy online on MSN at 8. He was at work since it was monday morning, but he had called Equality California and they had been very prompt to help. He gave me the number of four lawyers that were members of EC, telling me to call them as soon as possible.  
I didn't even need to call them all, the first replied positively to my request and I had to meet him at 10am.  
I barely had time to shower and dress that I needed to get going. I thanked Jeremy and closed the connection before exiting the apartment.  
It was suddenly brighter ahead of me. I knew that the counterpart of this help was that I had to subscribe to EC, but that was nothing I couldn't do. I'd clean their toilets forever if I had to.

The meeting with the lawyer was barely thirty minutes long but I guess it was already much considering he was squeezing me between two important appointments.  
He confirmed that I had been clever to file a complaint and made a copy of the attestation I had. He would call the prosecuting attorney after lunch to get an overview of what was possible. He didn't promise it would work, actually, he had doubts, but he would do what he could nonetheless.

My dad came back from work not long after I was home, and we had lunch. I was watching the empty spot where Mihael had sat so often, my mum was watching, my dad was watching... it was difficult. Every moment without him was difficult.  
She didn't even dare bringing the bowl of fresh cherries for dessert because of the memory of our cherry stems knotting contest the first time Mihael dined with us, at the time he had hurt his hand really badly when we had to cut the fence at Uni as a punishment for fighting on the campus.

It was so silent after lunch, only the ticking of the old living room clock marking every second resounded, and I couldn't help but focus on it. I hated it and yet it was insinuating in my mind, driving me crazy.  
And it stopped. I jumped on my feet, my parents looking at me questioningly.  
I went to the old wooden thing and changed the battery. Tic, toc, and again. For one second, it felt like it was a heart stopping.

Around 1pm the phone rang. My mum picked up, and I saw her face change. Both my father and me were on our feet, questioning her with our looks, but she mouthed 'it's ok' while listening to her interlocutor. Every call now would be a panic, everyone dreading the one call, the one news that we didn't want to hear.

"Can you wait a minute please, I'll ask my son." she said before turning to me, "Mail, it's the owner of the motocross circuit... he wanted to know why you didn't show up on saturday and... he asks that you pay the second part even if you didn't come because he had reserved the circuit anyway... do you want me to explain?"  
I became livid. Then I broke down and cried. The date. On saturday, I should have been enjoying my first real date with Mihael. I had planned to bring him to that motocross circuit out of town and I had paid an advance to rent two sport motorcycles and we would have raced against each other and he would have won because I never rode a motorcycle and it would have been so funny, I would have been ridiculous and he would have laughed at me and...  
I was devastated. I had occulted that until now, probably my mind not wanting to think about it, and I probably would have been able to go on like this if the guy from the circuit hadn't called.

My mother began crying as well so my dad took the call and explained. Of course, the owner of the circuit refused to be paid once he knew and even offered to refund me totally. But I didn't care. I was hurting so much I could hardly breathe and suddenly I passed out.

I woke up in my room feeling a needle sting my arm. My mum had called the family doctor because she was worried there was more than the last events. But except a very low blood pressure, I was fine. Kind of. He prescribed some pills, told me to rest and that was about all.  
I heard him in the hallway when he said to my mum: "There's no cure for what he's going through, just make sure he eats and sleeps..."

I stayed in bed a few minutes just so my mother wouldn't worry too much, but when everyone was out of ears, I lit up my computer and connected on MSN. Jeremy was still there and it relieved me a bit to be able to talk to him. I told him about my appointment with the lawyer, and eh kind of waited with me for the lawyer's call later in the afternoon.

I was scared. Something had ticked in me, when the guy from the cross circuit had called. Like a slap in the face to make me come back to reality. Somehow, planning things, being helped by all those people... it was like being caught in their own enthusiasm, the support and understanding making me bolder, more trustful with what I wanted to do. And I was quickly drawn back to the reality of the situation: Mihael was in hospital, in danger, and I was just a grain of sand in his parents' decision. But I had to make sure that this grain of sand was able to stop the whole machine's wheels.

I searched on forums, sometimes finding posts that abounded in my direction, but only to find the total opposite. I was on a roller coaster, emotionally speaking. I know that forums are not the most trustful places for accurate informations but I needed some reassurance right now, which I wasn't finding, making my state of mind only worse.  
I wanted to know if I had a chance, if I had enough time, if there had been some precedents to what I was doing.  
But the goddamn internet is just a place full of wankers fighting on forums, it seems.

I smoked cigarette on cigarette, not even caring going to the window now.  
It was 2pm. Did the lawyer already call the prosecutor?  
I had the answer seven minutes later.

The prosecutor had clearly stated he would not take the case. But he had requested to meet me.  
Damn. Did I do something wrong? Would justice backslap me finally ? I didn't understand what was going on. Had I done something that was going against the law? I didn't think so... but still, I was a bit worried when I crossed the corridors of the lawcourt a while later.


	46. Chapter 46

_**Note: **Ok, I think it's now obvious that my writing pattern is 'write-write-write non stop for days' then 'total blackout'.  
_  
_It's not so obvious that I wrote a lot these last days since I didn't post anything of what I wrote.  
Actually, I began what was supposed to be a oneshot, a fairytale that I planned to post on Valentines Day just for you my beloved readers.  
But it's now 10 500 words long and I'm only at the half of it.  
**So I'm asking you: are you in for another multichaptered fic? (although it will be less than 10 chapters, it won't be a monster like Lithium or TSFMS here). Or do you want it on Valentines day as a oneshot anyway?**_  
**_It's for you, so you decide!  
_**

* * *

**Matt  
**I was so nervous, waiting for my appointment with the prosecutor. I felt like throwing up, but I was quickly freed from my agony as the door opened and a secretary called me inside. She was wearing a neat and expensive looking skirt suit, very grey, very professional. I followed her across the small office that was probably hers, and that was giving straight on the prosecutor's one.

The man stood up to greet me, and I shook his hand politely. I waited for his signal to sit, and just kept silent. My heart was hammering, and I was almost ready to scream for him to tell me why I was here already.

He was probably around fifty, blond hair becoming greyish on the sides, glasses, tall and tanned, athletic. The typical Californian man that succeeded in life.

"Mr Jeevas, I won't beat around the bush because I see you're obviously nervous. The reason why I requested to meet you is to make sure you know what you're doing concerning your complaint."  
I looked at him, not really understanding the meaning of this.  
"More precisely, are you aware of who you are attacking?" His face was so serious that I almost laughed. Of course I knew who I was attacking! Two rich and homophobic bastards that thought they could do as they pleased against all reason just because they said so. Ok, I didn't phrase it that way, but the general idea remained.

"Mail. Can I call you Mail? You're barely older than my son..." I nodded, I didn't give a fuck what he called me. "Mail I need to tell you a few details that may lead you to reconsider your actions. I understand your motives, and would have gladly defended your case, in any other circumstances. But all I can do to help right now is to tell you to back off, and quick."  
"I won't." There. Stick your paternalism where you want and stop telling me what to do.

The prosecutor sighed heavily.  
"I totally saw that coming, but please, listen to me. You don't know who they are. It's not just filing a complaint with regular people and having a chance to win like any other citizen in this country regarding law. You're not leaving the starting blocks with a single chance, and you're running a race that is leading you straight to a disaster. For you, for your family and everyone close to you even. I'm not saying that lightly Mail. Back off, it's the safest way to go about this. Not only for you but for the person you're trying to protect."  
"Do you mean I could endanger Mihael?" I was suddenly a bit more concerned by all the fuss he was making around Mihael's parents.  
He didn't reply. I was starting to understand that the answer was no, but that he still wanted to focus me on the fact that other people around me could suffer of what I was doing. Not that it wasn't important, but I hated that he was obviously not telling me everything.

"What about telling me the exact nature of the threats you're talking about? You ask me to back off, yet you make a mystery of this all. I can't get a full picture if you only give me half of the informations you seem to possess."  
I tried to keep calm and talk politely and concisely although I wanted to shake him badly. I needed to understand things, and the way he didn't provide the whole of his informations really made me crazy.

"It's the Mafia Mail."  
I opened wide eyes. I became totally still, my whole body getting numb and heavy, like trapped under a huge rock. I had misheard. It just couldn't be. Mihael in the Mafia?  
"That's totally crazy! You must be kidding!" I couldn't process that information, it was a bad joke.  
"I understand how shocked you can be, and believe me, if I had had a choice, I wouldn't have told you. You're stubborn, just like most kids your age... I'm not kidding, and I'm only doing this to avoid a drama. Stop this Mail, stop everything before it's too late." The prosecutor was trying hard to convince me, and the look in his eyes proved the truthfulness of the situation. He looked alarmed, anxious, and determined to do what it would take to make me give up.

"Mihael is in the Mafia? I just can't believe it..." This couldn't be real. No matter how hard I tried, I could think of nothing, no hint that would have given that away in all those moments spent with him. I could understand that it was something Mihael would never have told me because it's just not something you say just like that, and I could even forgive him, because I was sure that he would have told me later, when the right moment would have come.  
"No, well, not like you think. I have never worked directly in a case related to them, but I immediately recognized the name when your case was addressed to me because I was an assistant in a law firm years ago and I was involved in researches for a case that involved Mafia networks and those researches led me to contacts in Germany, Mr Keehl being one of said contacts in the network. I called the person that was my boss in that firm at that time before you came here, to get more details, and although he couldn't give me all the details, I have informations that are enough for me to _plead_ you to back off."  
"Then, what are those informations?" I asked, totally serious. I wouldn't move from here unless he told me everything. He had fucked my mind up and I wanted answers.

"Mail, I can't tell you more than that, believe me, I wish I could, but I already told you things I wasn't supposed to. You have to believe me..."  
"And you have to believe me when I say that it won't stop me. You don't want to tell me everything, fine, but then you will have to deal with me here because I won't move from here. And if you try to get rid of me, I'll make the informations that you just gave me public."

The prosecutor looked at me and shook his head. "Mail, I've seen how this all works, and the means they have to get what they want, you don't stand a chance! Don't be so stubborn for God's sake! I know that this is probably not very real to you, but its is. It's reality Mail, it's dangerous, and you are nothing in this. NOTHING!"  
He had stood up from his armchair, hands flat on his desk, looking at me so intensely that I broke down and cried.  
I stood up too. "_YOU_ ARE NOTHING! You're just a coward that's shitting in his pants!" I all but screamed, "I won't give up, with or without informations I'll do what I think is right. You don't want to help me? Fine! I'm sure the whole state will love to know about my case!"  
I stormed out of the office, but he caught up with me and pulled my arm to stop me.

"Wait! At least let me give you an advice that may save your life!"  
The secretary, discreet, exited immediately her office to give us some privacy.  
"Mail, listen, whatever you do, just know one thing: I have good reasons to think that Mihael is not involved in any way in the Mafia other than being the son of a head in there. I'm not even sure that he knows who his father really does as a living. No matter what, don't tell him. _Don't_ be the one who tells him."  
I freed my arm, and left without looking back.

Once inside of my car, I cried even more. This was way beyond everything I could have imagined. It was crazy, fucked up, it was insane.  
I could hardly believe that Mihael didn't know who his father really was, but at the same time, I didn't want to think that he had lied to me, even if it was understandable concerning the nature of the information.  
I willed that thought away. It didn't matter. It only mattered that I was even more in a mess than I initially thought. A deep, dangerous, and mind-wrecking mess. How would I get out of this?

While I drove, I knew that I wouldn't give up. It was all about Mihael, damnit! I didn't want to lose him!  
I called my mother since she had made me promise that I would as soon as I would be over with my appointment, and I surprisingly stayed perfectly calm on the phone, lying to her and being overall reassuring.  
Then I drove to the EC unit.

First, I kept my promise to subscribe, and once I was done and got my card in hand, I asked for help.  
I wanted to know if they had ways to contact the medias. Which they had.  
I don't know how many promises I made, I was probably booked for hundred days of various tasks, but late in the afternoon, Jeremy, who had joined me at the unit, helped me plan what would be my first TV appearance ever.  
Ok, it was only on a small local channel, I would probably touch few people, but that's all I could get. Of course I didn't expect a national channel to take me seriously, but still, I couldn't help but be a bit disappointed.

At least, the recording would be done tomorrow morning and aired at noon in the news. Jeremy had been really convincing on that point, because they wanted to air it at the end of the week. It was too late! There was so few time left that I was becoming really short-tempered. Everything was getting on my nerves and I was trying really hard not to snap at people.  
It wouldn't be very long, less than ten minutes, I didn't know if it was good or not, I didn't know if I would say the right things, I didn't know anything anymore at that point. I was only seeing time fly and my chances reduces to nothing if nothing happened after that program, and before tomorrow evening.

I spent an awful night, rehearsing whatever I could say in my mind, unable to decide what was important and what should be left out. The few I slept was filled with nightmares, so I ended up on my computer, fed up with the tossing and turning.

I didn't expect what I found when I arrived at 10am at the studios to record the program.  
There were people _everywhere_. And others kept on arriving. I didn't realise it at first, but suddenly I read that panel saying '_Till death do us part? Not for them, let Mihael live!_' and I understood.  
All those people, maybe one hundred, maybe even more, were there for me. For Mihael. It's only when I came closer that I recognised Spanish Boy and Number One, and even customers of the club.  
"He's here!" Spanish Boy shouted. A general cheer rose, and I was suddenly surrounded by all these people clapping their hands. It was surreal. Of course I cried, how could I not to?

I saw a huge guy with a camera make his way through the crowd, a woman at his side, commenting the gathering until she reached me.  
And it all went fast, too fast. The local channel, seeing the people gather since 8am, and more, more and more arriving, had decided to take advantage of what was happening in front of their building. It went from an originally planned quick little recording in a studio with only me and the woman, to a live broadcast with hundreds of supporters. I was stunned.

The hostess greeted me, and introduced me before explaining my case and it was just amazing. I was able to say what I had to say, I could feel pats on my shoulders from behind me as I spoke to the camera, some others were interviewed to tell their feelings about the situation, and why they were here to support me.

But it was nothing compared to what happened next. While we were still on air, the news came at the channel that people had started to gather in front of the hospital where Mihael was, and suddenly everyone moved on to join them there. I was invited to go with the hostess and the cameraman in their van, and they drove to the hospital.  
They continued broadcasting from there even if at some point the security of the hospital as well as the Police came on the spot.

Everyone behaved so they didn't try to disperse us. People just sat, leaving a free line to let people come and go out of the hospital. But the more time passed, the more people arrived. Even Jeremy came as soon as he finished work, bringing me food and drinks. I never had much friends, but I knew that I had at least one now.

I was on a cloud. I could never have imagined something like that. All this support and help, and understanding, it was giving me wings, and I knew now that it was possible to save Mihael.

At some point, they stopped broadcasting, but the cameraman and the hostess stayed around and news about the situation were given from time to time on the local channel. That is, until a national channel got interested in all this crazy thing and I was interviewed again. And my mother called because she saw me on TV. That was just utter madness. The fucking national TV!

After that, I don't know how many people joined us. The hospital was surrounded. No issue was left unguarded. There were people that just wanted to support, people from other gay rights associations, more customers from the club that had recognised me on TV...

So we all stayed here, and I was really inwardly daring the Keehls to take Mihael now.

* * *

**_Shameless advertisement: _**_look for xxbeyondxbirthdayxx PomPom Girls on Facebook for MxM goodness, we're waiting for you!_


	47. Chapter 47

**_Note:_**_Finally updating, sorry for the wait. I will most probably be updating every day or every two days until we reach the last chapter, since we're quite close now. Ah, I don't want this fic to end..._

_I've updated **Lithium** too yesterday, and **Lionheart** (this one will be updated regularly until the end too since it's almost finished)._  
_When I'm done with Lionheart and TSFMS, since I will only be having Lithium as incomplete, you'll get a new multichaptered fic (a long one, but I can't tell how long since I tend to underestimate myself each time XD). It already has a title, it's **Stay Tuned**, the one I'm thinking about since forever (there's a summary on my profile). I never allowed myself to begin it, I wanted to finish the ongoing ones before, except Lithium since it's far from the end._

_Ok, on with the TSFMS roller coaster!_

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**Matt**  
I was a bit weary at that point. The more people arrived, the less I could process comings and goings around the hospital's entrance. It scared me that I could miss something, someone, and I couldn't help but try to have my eyes everywhere. But of course I couldn't, and some kind of panic grew in me.  
I suddenly stood up from my spot. I needed to check on Mihael. I wasn't allowed any visit, and I was sure that the Keehls had probably paid a fair amount so I would be stopped before I could even reach the counter of the hospital.

"What's wrong Mail?" Jeremy asked me, standing too, looking at me worriedly.  
"I don't know... Do you think they could take him away without us noticing?" I turned to him, anxiety growing in me. I couldn't understand what was happening in me, but my fighting spirit, that the last events had nurtured in me, was slowly dissolving to leave place to a sick feeling. Maybe it was because it was the day Mihael's parents were supposed to take him away, maybe it was just me being tired, but I could feel fear slowly insinuating in my gut.  
I didn't have time to dwell further on that, the answer came quickly. Call it sixth sense or whatever you like: an helicopter was approaching and it was obvious it was landing on the hospital's roof. It could have been for anyone inside of that building, but it had to be for Mihael. I _knew _it.

I ran. I could hear Jeremy call to me and the sound of his steps running behind me, but the more I approached the doors, the more the beating of my heart took over any other sound in my ears. It was an overwhelming boombox in my head, and I was too far gone in panic to even hear the screams of anyone trying to stop me. Secretaries, doctors, nurses, I managed to get past the counter, and I knew the way so I speeded straight to Mihael's room. I needed to make it on time, just to make it actually, before anyone stopped me.  
I had the impression that it was all going in slow motion, that the way was ten times longer than it really was, I just couldn't go as fast as I wanted. Fucking corridor had no end!

I felt my strength leave me. I slowed down, and stopped. I almost fell to my knees. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.  
Just in front of me, a few feet away, Mihael, on a gurney, was being taken away to the elevator, two doctors and two men dressed in black suits following.  
I closed the distance between me and the elevator, trying to block the way. Jeremy was by my side in no time, and the gurney stopped.  
"Boys, get out of the way, please." Zimmerman said, obviously annoyed.  
"You can do nothing at this point, so I suggest you leave before we have to get you both out of the way by ourselves." one of the men in black said coldly. His accent was thicker than Mihael's, but there was no doubt that he was German.

I briefly wondered if they were bodyguards or something like that, and why Mihael's parents weren't present, but I was more focused on the fact that I had to stop this and that my petite stature didn't stand a chance compared to Hulk and Thor in front of me. Not counting the staff of the hospital that had been after me since I entered, that were staring at this point. I could have sworn that they rooted for me, none of them moving.

Jeremy looked at me and suddenly left, running. "Block the way as long as you can, I'll be right back!" he yelled from the corner of the corridor.  
Now was a good time to leave me alone... but I was sure he was calling out for help so I just prayed that I would last long enough before he went back with whatever idea he had had two seconds ago.  
I pleaded all gods for a wave of people from outside to flood the place and help me guard the elevator, or better, to encircle the gurney. Seconds ticked in my head in rhythm with the drum that my heart was playing but nothing came. The elevator wasn't coming either so I was a bit lucky so far, that is until the doors opened behind me and I was rudely pushed on the side by one of the mountains in a suit.

I saw Mihael pass in front of me, unconscious, his body covered to his chin, face bruised and burnt, adorning a sick grey colour that wasn't even contrasting with the sheet. He looked dead. And Jeremy wasn't coming back. Help wasn't coming. And I knew right at that moment that everyone that had told me so was right: I was nothing.

My phone buzzed. Jeremy had been caught outside by the police who was trying to prevent the riot that was starting since Jeremy had informed people that they were taking Mihael away. He had wanted to bring people in but the police had forbidden the access to the hospital's entrance.  
I saw the doors of the elevator close. It was...  
No, it was not over.

I had never climbed stairs so fast in my life. I didn't feel my legs, I didn't even feel my lungs, I just took those damn stairs three by three, probing every part of my brain for an idea, a way, just something.  
I made it to the roof just as the door was closing. I just had time to smash myself into it so it wouldn't close at my face, because then I was done, since there was no handle and it couldn't be opened without a key.

Zimmerman seemed surprised that I had made it, but he didn't see me as a threat and decided to ignore me. Well, he was probably right, I wasn't a threat at that point. I didn't even know what to do except looking at the gurney being loaded up the helicopter. The two men climbed in, and then, it was gone.  
Zimmerman walked past me with a smirk, and even held me the door, motioning with his chin for me to get in.  
"Unless you want to bawl and cry your eyes out in here?" he chuckled.  
The bastard was heartless, but I didn't need that to cry, I was already losing my mind completely and couldn't have cared less for the tears running on my face or how devastated I looked. I felt like I had done nothing, I felt worthless. Down with the crowd, I had believed, if only for an instant, that I could be a hero, but this situation wasn't a fucking movie, and I hadn't saved Mihael.  
I suddenly felt my lungs burning, I was unable to breathe and wanted to vomit. Everything was turning around me and I blacked out.

I woke up to someone slapping my face and so much noise and wind that I felt dizzy just by trying to collect my thoughts and understand what was going on.  
I was still on the roof, and the one slapping me was Jeremy. I realised that the helicopter was at the origin of the wind and deafening noise, and I couldn't hear what Jeremy was trying to tell me. I managed to stand up, helped by his support, and gaped at the sight in front of me, totally clueless about what was happening.

The helicopter had obviously come back, and soon the wings slowed down and the sound lessened, and I was able to hear Jeremy, who was still holding me, an arm under my armpits so I wouldn't fall. My legs felt like cotton and it took me a little time to process what he was saying.  
"He's back! He can't leave!"  
He wasn't giving me a reason but I couldn't care less. My eyes were going from him to the male nurses carrying the gurney out of the helicopter, to Zimmerman looking as confused as me, talking on the phone and obviously licking somebody's shoes from what I was hearing.

We all followed the procession, everyone falling silent. I questioned Jeremy with a look but he didn't say anything. But I had a feeling that something wasn't right.  
We needed to let the nurses and Mihael take the elevator with Zimmerman, we couldn't all fit in the cubicle, so we waited, Jeremy obviously uneasy. I wanted to follow as fast as possible, but I wasn't able to take the stairs.  
The elevator was finally back. It seemed to me like it took hours to come down and reach the floor where Mihael's room was.  
"Jeremy, what happened? How did you manage to make him come back?" I asked, unable to take it anymore. What was happening damnit?  
"I didn't do anything, actually I was stuck outside, they wouldn't let me back in. I'm not even sure I understand what happened myself but..."

Jeremy was cut by the doors opening. I didn't expect to see a bust of cops in front of the room.  
"... Mihael is under arrest Mail..." I turned to look at him. What the fuck? "I don't know why, I just saw more cops arrive and they were here for him and I just managed to get in again because it was a total madness and they couldn't contain the crowd and I needed to go get you and..."  
"Why? Arrested, why?" I all but screamed. This was pure nonsense!

Right at that moment I didn't even know if I had to be happy or sad. Mihael wouldn't go, but he was under arrest? What was going on for fuck's sake?

No one was caring about Jeremy or me at that point. There was too much fuss, Mihael was installed back in his room, most of the cops went away but two stayed, obviously guarding the door, and Zimmerman himself left once he had made sure that Mihael was ok. That's only when Jeremy and me left the corner of the corridor where we were partly hiding and that I tried to reach Mihael's room that we were asked to leave by the policemen.  
It was useless to try to convince them, but somehow, knowing Mihael was safe in that hospital's room, I followed Jeremy out of the building willingly, since there was nothing more we could do, and I wouldn't be allowed to get closer to Mihael.  
The two cops refused to say anything about the reasons why Mihael was under arrest.

When Jeremy and me exited the hospital, most of the people that had been gathered there were gone. There were still a few policemen around, two trying to push away the hostess and the cameraman that I had come here with but they managed to reach me.  
"Mail! Mail! You're finally out! Can you tell what happened inside? How do you feel? How are you taking the news?"  
I looked at her. I was tired of this.  
"I don't know, I'm just exhausted right now and I need to go home... I don't want to talk about it."  
I thought that she would be understanding enough to leave me alone, but she was simply doing her job and insisted, trying to get something interesting enough to be broadcast.  
"Mail, just one last thing! It must have been a shock to hear that your boyfriend was arrested although he is in a coma, do you plan to break up with him because of what he was arrested for?"  
"I don't even know what he was arrested for, so just fuck off, okay?" I yelled, pushing the cameraman on the side.  
She hesitated a split second but it was obviously too tempting.  
"He was arrested for rape... Mail, what are you going to do? Do you plan to break up with him or not?"

I took a few seconds to register her words.  
I went out of my mind. Soon the camera was in pieces on the floor, the guy holding his bleeding mouth with both hands as I kept on punching him.  
Jeremy caught my middle just in time before I did the same to the hostess, who ran away while he pulled me to the parking lot. I was screaming like a madman, yelling at Jeremy to let me go and it was lucky that he was taller and stronger than me because I would have even punched the cops still on site.  
The pain was just too much to take. Why did they have to stain Mihael this way? There was no way I believed this shit, no way it could be true.

At some point, Jeremy began to shout back at me, and slapped me.  
"STOP! MAIL, STOP THIS NOW!"  
I just stopped, completely in shock.  
"I'm driving you home."  
He rummaged in my own pocket, stirred a cigarette and my lighter and lit it, then handed it to me, coughing the smoke he had inhaled.  
"Take this, you need it." he said, his voice softer than previously.

I smoked my cigarette silently, then a second one. I was now totally drained, unable to think, to decide anything. I wanted to curl up in a ball and just disappear off the face of the Earth. No, I wanted Mihael, now. I wanted to talk to him, to feel his arms around me, to hear him say it was ok, that there was no problem, that we would be fine.  
I was even too exhausted to cry, I was _dry_.

My phone rang. I didn't answer. I didn't want to.  
It stopped, then I had the beep telling me I had a voicemail. Then it rang again. This time, Jeremy grabbed it, seeing as I wasn't moving an inch.  
"It's your mother." he said, looking at the caller ID, but with no reaction from my part, he picked up the call.  
"I'm Jeremy, Madam. I'm Mail's friend, he's right next to me, he's kind of... feeling really bad, I was about to bring him home, don't worr... oh, ok, fine, we'll be right there. Goodbye Madam."  
He closed the phone and sighed. "Mail, your mother wants me to drive you to the police station on Central Avenue. She's waiting for you there..."  
"What?" my head shot up. What was my mother doing at the police station?


	48. Chapter 48

_**Note: **Now that Lionheart is finally complete, I'm back to TSFMS until it's complete too :) It should be over in a few chapters, and i'll update something like every two days probably.  
I have 3 other new fics waiting to be written, I may start one in the next days but not all, not until TSFMS is over.  
Short chapter but there was nothing more to add to this one ;)_

* * *

**Matt  
**I was already pretty confused after the day I had had, but when Jeremy parked in front of the police station and that I saw my mother, crying as she ran to me and hugged me, my father with a dark look, and the prosecutor with a black eye, I felt like being in a Vaudeville.  
"Mum, what happened?" I looked at my dad but he stayed silent. Why was the prosecutor here? I was suddenly afraid that my dad got arrested for punching the prosecutor, but why would he have gone to see him?

I was impressed by my father's mutism, I had never seen him like that. But I wanted to know what was happening so I focused on my mother.  
"Will you tell me what happened and why he's here?" I asked, impatient, glancing at the prosecutor.  
But my mother broke down in tears again and although my father seemed to disagree with something happening, he took her in his arms.  
"Mr Jeevas, please bring her home, I think she's way too shaken now, it's better that you go home. I'll explain everything to Mail and I'll drive him home after that, if it's fine with you."

My father nodded and pushed my mother to their car. I looked at the prosecutor, not really happy to talk to him. He was probably about to scold me and try to convince me to give it up once again...  
We walked to a cafe nearby and sat, Jeremy leaving us discreetly, waving at me as he drove away.

"Mail, your mother is a ruddy woman to deal with..." he began, staring at his cup of coffee.  
"Care to explain? I'm not really up for taking guesses, I got my boyfriend dying in a hospital, now charged with rape, my mum at the police station, so it's about time someone tells me what's going on for fuck's sake!"  
People turned to look at me and I glared at them. They weren't happy with me shouting? They could fuck off.

"Easy Mail, please..." he finally looked at me, "Your mother came to my office and after convincing my assistant to let her in, she kind of convinced me to help..." he gestured at his black eye.  
"She was the one to do that?" I opened wide eyes, "So you had her arrested?" Anger was rising in me. The bastard hadn't wanted to help me and now he was doing that to my mother?  
"No, calm down boy, your mother is safe, let me finish."

The prosecutor explained how my mother stormed into his office because she was infuriated that he hadn't helped me, and she wanted to know how to forbid Mihael's parents to take him back to Germany, and he had told her the same as me, that he could do nothing, that we'd better back off for our own safety. He omitted the Mafia part though.  
She had insisted but he had refused to talk further.  
My mother was not pleased at all by his answer, and she punched him.  
I would have found that hilarious if I hadn't heard the rest just after.  
The prosecutor had finally blurted out that the two only ways to keep Mihael here was either that he accepted to take my case, which he wouldn't, or that Mihael was requested to stay on the territory. Not wanting to get punched again, he had admitted that people were requested not to leave the country when they were charged with a complaint.  
My mother didn't need more to use that mean to prevent Mihael to fly away.

There were plenty of complaints that she could have filed against Mihael, but only a criminal case would be taken seriously enough for the territory assignment to be delivered quickly. And the prosecutor had taken charge of the file, that's why they were all at the police station earlier. I would be questioned soon about that and so the prosecutor had to inform me of what to say and not say, and we talked for hours before he finally brought me home.

My father obviously disagreed with the whole thing, thus the silence when I entered the flat. They were both sat on the couch, none of them speaking, my father looking like he was brooding, even.  
I kissed my mother on the cheek, hugged my father, and went to my room. I needed the comfort of solitude right now.  
The day had been long, eventful, crazy things had happened, and I was exhausted. But I had to analyse things, my mind was demanding it.

Was I happy that Mihael stayed? Yes.  
Was I angry at my mother for filing a complaint for rape? No. But I was scared of the outcome. Of course, the prosecutor had explained that as soon as Mihael would be out of the coma and able to say that he wanted to stay, the charges would be abandoned, and even if my mother risked prosecution for false accusation, first, it was very unlikely that Mihael complained about that, and if anything happened, the prosecutor had promised to help. It was also improbable that the Keehls charged my mum, they would want to stay as far away from a justice court as possible.  
Damn... I never thought that my mum would go to such extents... I was proud of her, but at the same time, I knew that she was afraid too, and probably my dad as well. But she had done it anyway, for me... while Mihael had only bastards as parents.

I fell asleep with my clothes on, across the bed. When I woke up, it was 4am and my parents were long gone to bed. The apartment was so silent, I felt so alone with that remaining feeling of yesterday, to see them both silent and disagreeing. It had never happened, and for some reason, it made me feel extremely insecure.

I went to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of cereals and came back to my room. I wasn't really hungry but I had to eat at some point, my stomach was growling and I felt almost nauseated with the lack of food recently.  
I sat at my desk and lit my laptop on. Jeremy immediately contacted me through MSN as it logged in automatically. I was a bit surprised but I guess that the latest events had disturbed him too. Even if I had that lingering impression that he had been waiting for me the entire time. Maybe he was just worrying after leaving me in front of the police station...  
I explained to him what had happened with my mum and the prosecutor, then we simply chatted. He was a great support, and I really needed it actually.  
We logged off around 5, and I tried to get some more sleep.

The next days were probably the longest days in my life. The only thing that kept me sane was the knowledge that Mihael was safely guarded at the hospital and that my parents had made peace, even if they didn't talk about it anymore, because my father still didn't agree with what my mother had done.  
We had had a long talk about that so now we avoided to bring up the topic after I had been questioned at the police station. Which had been a nightmare because they had tried to make me say things that would lead to conclude that Mihael was a rapist, and it was lucky that the prosecutor had informed me of tricks and things to say because I would have lost my temper and probably cried more than once. I tried to stay calm, replied as vaguely as I could, never gave a personal opinion, and broke down and threw up in the toilets when it was done.

Days were so eventless that I could have hit my head on the walls, and after trying to relinquish in the feeling that Mihael was safe, even if I couldn't see him, one week later I was a nervous wreck. I got into more and more fights with my parents, my mother scolding me for not eating or resting enough, my father yelling because I smoked in my room, trying to get me to work with him to keep my mind busy and then shouting some more because I only made mistakes that he had to repair...  
Even talking to Jeremy online didn't help. He had come home once or twice but even if he understood me, sometimes I just wanted him to leave after a while. He wanted to cheer me up, but he just tried too hard...  
I was a pretty pitiful friend I guess... probably because as much as I wanted to be nice to Jeremy, it's mean to say it like this, but I didn't need a friend, all I wanted was Mihael.

That's when I really began to break into pieces. I had broken down a lot lately, but it was nothing compared to what happened after I realised that Mihael had taken all the space left in my mind, soul, heart, and even taken the space that wasn't free. I would push everything, everyone out of my life and timetable to leave room for him and him only.  
I couldn't trick myself with Mihael being safe at the hospital, Jeremy's presence to change my mind, escaping the thoughts of past moments with Mihael... it just didn't work anymore, I wasn't only feeling like I was nothing in the sense of a hero to save him, I was simply nothing without him.

I stopped eating, going out, washing even. I stayed in bed crying. I don't know how long I would have gone like this, really. I just couldn't function anymore. I didn't want to die, because I still had hope that Mihael would wake up, he would, the doctors had said so. But I was dying nonetheless.  
I alternated sleep, crying, fighting with my mom when she tried to force some food down my throat, vomiting, bawling, having nightmares, crying again... I barely knew day from night or even the date.

And then my father came into my room, opening the door so hurriedly that it made me start out of my semi sleepy state, curled up under my sheets in the middle of the afternoon. It was nine days after I had been questioned at the police station.  
And I knew. I knew as soon as I saw his face.

I jumped out of bed, standing haggard, waiting for I didn't know what, that he spoke probably, but he was grinning so hard, and there were tears in his eyes, and he hugged me so tightly that I almost suffocated.  
"Hurry, there's someone on the phone for you." he managed to articulate through his laughter of joy, and I ran in the living room, picking up the receiver.

I guess that it was pretty stupid to think that Mihael was on the phone, but this is what I expected.  
When I heard the prosecutor's voice the joy that my father had communicated to me deflated in a split second.  
To come back as soon as he told me that the hospital had called Mihael's lawyer to keep him informed of Mihael's state. Considering that the Keehls hadn't been reached yet (they had vanished and no one had apparently managed to contact them), Mihael had been assigned a court-appointed lawyer and by pulling some strings, the prosecutor got a friend of him on the case.

The prosecutor was telling me that his friend had just gotten the news that Mihael started to wake up.


	49. Chapter 49

_**Note: **I'm back!  
Things seems to have cooled down in here so I'm updating again, let's see what happens. As a reminded though, you can find me on FB (see my FF profile for more informations) to keep in touch, should anything happen here, deletion or whatever.  
Now I'm on my way to finish TSFMS, a few more chapters to go and it's over, it makes me a bit sad because that's a great ride with you all, but I have more to come after that, Lithium has a load more chapters to go (I'm only at the half of it XD), two other multichaptered will start after I finish TSFMS, and oneshots in between ^^  
Still stuck here with me for quite some time, heh?  
Thank you everyone for the support all along *insert heart smiley here since FF keeps on erasing it*_

* * *

**Mello**  
I started. My mind started... Because I was pretty sure that my body hadn't moved an inch... I felt heavy, like buried under a thousand bricks... I couldn't remember what I had just been having as a nightmare but I wanted to wake up completely.  
I couldn't. So I just slept some more...

I started again. There was that strange noise waking me up again, I don't know... I must have been really tired, I never slept so heavily before, that's why the noise surprised me... probably.  
I tried to focus on the noise but it had disappeared. There was the same but not so loud, and listening to it just made me sleepy again...

I think I screamed. I woke up in a start again but maybe it was just in my mind that I screamed, because I couldn't feel my lips moving. That loud beep again, and little beeps following. It was becoming annoying. I was obviously tired more than usual and I couldn't even get some rest... that noise made me nervous...

This time I needed to make that beep stop. I had awoken in a start again, and I could feel my heart rate increase to the point I thought I would have a heart attack. But it got worse, the beep became louder and louder and suddenly there were voices, so I tried to open my eyes but I dozed off... too difficult...

I didn't start this time, although I could still hear the less loud of the beeps. It was continuous but this time I tried not to focus on them. I wanted to be awake. I would have to be, at some point, I had things to do today.  
Ah, that was stupid, I was stuck in a nightmare, and aware that I was. But you can never wake up by yourself in those cases, you just have to do with it... fuck. Or was I?

I tried to move my fingers and raise my hand, damn, I felt itchy all over, it was uncomfortable.  
My arm refused to move, and that fucking itch that grew stronger was starting to get on my nerves. I realised that I was probably still asleep, in the middle of a nightmare. I really needed to wake up.  
But I was still so tired...

No. I was awake. Fully awake. My brain was totally aware of being awake. I wasn't sleepy anymore, and the itch was terrible. I was slowly feeling my body parts, one after the other, like if my brain was rediscovering the feeling of having a body bit by bit.  
And the pain. Oh my God, the pain! Why was it so painful? I couldn't process where my body hurt, it was my legs, my arms, hands, my head, everything. Each time I could focus on a pain, I could feel another going stronger.  
It was black, no... I had my eyes closed, and it took me a monstrous effort just to manage to open only as much as a slit.  
I didn't see much though, except a blinding light.

Can someone stop those fucking beeps?  
I wanted to cry because I couldn't take the itch, the pain, I didn't know what was wrong and there were those beeps and whispers and steps... but tears stung my face when I really began to cry, and more pain shot. My left cheek burnt under the salty liquid, it was awful...

I needed to open my eyes, I knew I wasn't home, this wasn't my bed, and... where was Mail?  
MAIL! Please help me...  
I knew that only my mind screamed, because I could barely form the words. My jaw was painful too. I was a living pain, that's all I could process.

Why was my brain so awake when my body obviously couldn't move?  
I felt panic rise. I wanted Mail next to me, now. I was scared and fuck, what was happening to me?

It felt suddenly good. I didn't feel the itch, the pain, nothing anymore.  
I tried to focus because I still didn't really get what was going on... I was at the hospital, okay, this seemed correct.  
But why? I felt pain earlier so it had to do with that, but it was a lot better now, so I would probably be out of here soon.

I took a long breath as I suddenly felt air pass through my throat. I felt dizzy and strangely very conscious of my lungs filling.

I was on a cloud, I felt completely cottony and high. I didn't feel my body anymore again but I couldn't care less, I felt so good at that moment... I wanted to sleep again but I couldn't because of the monitoring beeps. Even knowing what they were didn't help with the fact they were getting on my nerves.  
They were regular though...

I forced my eyes to open, and I tried to focus through the tiny slit I had managed to open again. It was too bright... There was a form moving but it disappeared...

I woke up to something pulling on my eyelid. I felt my eye water, and it was painful because I was blinded by a white light but it stopped, leaving me unable to focus my sight. I couldn't even keep my eye open anyway.  
Someone was touching me, I even got lifted at some point.

It felt like they were peeling my skin. Why were they doing that? It wasn't painful... aren't you supposed to hurt when you're skinned alive? It just felt like when you take off a band aid, without the pain... oh, bandages...  
A hand slid under my head, and I felt cool air on my face. I winced. This caused pain. But suddenly something cold spread on my cheek, and it was not so bad anymore...

The cold touched my whole body, and I felt wrapped in bandages again.  
I wanted to sleep so badly... I dozed off when they finally stopped touching me.

When I woke up, my eyes opened normally this time. My eye. For some reason there was a bandage on my left one.  
I was blinded, but after blinking several times, I could finally adjust to the light. I didn't see well though, only some form moving around me.  
I could easily say that it was a nurse when the blurry shape turned into someone in a white outfit. It was still not perfectly clear, but I was relieved that I could focus some more.

So I was at a hospital for sure. What had happened?  
I couldn't say that I was in pain, but I surely was itchy and uncomfortable. The itch seemed like something déja-vu, but I could stand it. I think I felt it way stronger before. I wasn't sure, I felt quite foggy, aware but... like hangover. My mouth felt dry and I was thirsty but the poor croak that left my mouth wasn't enough to get me water from the nurse. She left. Fuck.

I spent quite some time trying to focus on my surroundings but, I realised it after a while, a minerva was preventing my head to move as much as I wanted. I fell asleep again when there wasn't enough light in the room anymore. It was probably the sun setting, based on the colours I could see, pink, yellow, red...

I was awoken for quite some time, after what seemed to be a morning ritual. The cold I could feel was actually water. I felt somehow uneasy at the thought that someone was washing me.  
Someone was talking to me. I didn't recognise the voice. It was male, but I didn't know the person.  
It was a he, that's all I could tell from the tone.  
How was I feeling? Even if I knew, I couldn't reply to that question.  
I didn't care that it was sunny out there, like I was able to go for a walk, huh?  
I stopped focusing on the constant babbling and waited for my grooming to end.

I waited. Nothing was happening. I was clean, my bandages changed, whatever they spread on my skin well, spread, and that was all that would happen to me today? God, I couldn't stand that. I wish I could call for someone but I barely could get a whisper out of my throat. And useless to think of reaching the call remote, I was as mobile as a rock.  
I tried to reason myself before I went out of my mind. Unable to move, unable to talk, forced to stay in that same position all day alone with those maddening beeps for music, I was close to mental breakdown.

Fortunately, I heard steps, and they came my way. Good.  
I felt someone rummage something in my arm. On top of this amazing stay here, I was fed through a catheter in my vein, great. Could I at least get some water?  
But when I tried to speak, I only got a laughter as a response.  
"Don't try to talk sweetie, keep your strength, we take care of everything!"  
Damn bitch.  
And she was gone.

I slept through my boredom and woke up only because I was in pain.  
I was obviously auscultated, not very gently from what I could feel.  
My heart jumped in my chest when I heard someone speak German.  
Then I recognise my mother's voice replying to the German doctor, then my father's. For some reason, it was of no relief. Maybe because all I could hear as they discussed over my body was that I was now awake for sure and that the doctor could not do much to access my parents' demand, whatever it was. I wouldn't know, they didn't say it.  
All I knew was that my mother cursed and called the doctor good for nothing, huffed and left. Even in my state I could recognise her heavy and angry steps fading away.  
There was another male voice speaking English that asked if they were done, to which my father replied positively, and everyone seemed to leave.

I forced my eyes open and saw a man standing next to my monitors. He looked at me as he turned around and saw me with eyes open, seemed to think for a while, and nodded before he left.

I dozed off. I wished I knew what time it was, I had totally lost track of time, and was starting to worry for my date with Mail. I didn't want to miss it.

**Mail**  
I was going crazy.  
Mihael had started to wake up, and I didn't have the right to visit him yet. Crazy. CRAZY.  
It was barely one hour since I had known it, and I was already turning round in the apartment like a lion in a cage.  
My parents were too happy to tell me anything, my mother alternating between laughter and tears of joy, my father smiling and looking at me, shaking his head.

As soon as I ended the call with the prosecutor, I had ran to the bathroom, had showered days of grim, brushed my teeth, swallowed the giant pile of pancakes my mother had baked and readied myself to rush to the hospital, the prosecutor having said that he'd do his best so I could visit Mihael as soon as possible.  
But he had called again a few minutes earlier, telling me that the Keehls had suddenly showed up, and things were on hold for now until he knew more about their intentions. And since Mihael was still under arrest, until he was cleared, he couldn't allow me to visit him with the parents around, that was too risky.

I thought that we'd just have to clear him, then, but it was too early, the prosecutor said. Mihael needed to be able to express his requests and reply clearly to questioning before my mother could cancel her complain. If she did it too early, and Mihael wasn't able to speak, the Keehls would probably play their aces, and considering they didn't play fair, the prosecutor didn't want to enter in a round with them.


	50. Chapter 50

**_Note: _**_I'm one day late since I promised to update this week end, sorry. Stories keep bugging me lately and although I have already two multichaptered fics waiting to be written, that will wait after TSFMS is finished, more ideas came to my mind.  
_  
_Aaaand, yes, I'm using an A/N to keep you updated on what's coming fic-wise ^^  
_  
_**Negative is being currently written (the first chapter will be posted later today or tomorrow probably, keep an eye open). It's a short multichaptered fic that will be updated along with TSFMS.  
**Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort  
Summary:_ _Negative: a processed piece of film where the image is reversed so that the shadows are light and the highlights are dark. What is it in the scarred, but insanely beautiful model facing him, that makes Matt so eager to focus and shoot the fragility under the tough attitude, the wounds under the fat ego?_

_**With Every Heart Beat (first chapter already posted) was a oneshot but will get two more chapters. It's inspired from real life and I felt that somehow I had more to write about it.  
**Genre: Romance/Angst_  
_Summary: He's doing it again... Hell, I can't say it doesn't hurt. Because it truly does... When Mello's concentrated like that on his screen, a smile gracing his features from time to time, that he tries to hide, checking discreetly if I saw it or not, I know it's happening again. MATT POV_

As planned, Stay Tuned and Bookbinding will wait after TSFMS is completed.  
See my profile for more infos/links to the fics.

Sorry for the long A/N, now enjoy TSFMS 50!

* * *

**Matt**  
It had been complicated, and it had most certainly been the most unnerving wait of all my life.  
Mihael was awake and that was all I could think about, and my patience was wearing thin so once again, people around me had taken charge of things while I was being a poor excuse of a human being.

The prosecutor had kept my family informed of the progress almost hour after hour. Somehow, the fact that my mother had shown what the wrath of a mother could be had impressed him, and although he was by no means acting by fear, he probably felt kind of guilty for not helping in the first place.  
Oh, he didn't dip too much into the situation, still because of the Keehls, so he was doing everything in his power in any other area: he collected informations directly from his friend, the lawyer that was representing Mihael concerning the complain filed by my mother, he kept everything at bay concerning said complain and the authorities, lengthening the procedure to gain much needed time, so as long as the complain was being examined, Mihael's parents were in the same situation as us all: waiting.

The Keehls had apparently tried to force Mihael's travel to Germany once again with much backhanding, threats and a whole army of lawyers of their own, but US law was US law, Mihael would not leave the country.  
He was awake, but still unable to speak, and even if the barrier between considering that he was still not in possession of his full capacities and acknowledging his conscious state was very thin, criminals wouldn't leave the country while under arrest, and even an easy to bribe doctor would not go against that fact.

I had been so angry when I had learnt that they had left after the doctor had refused to consider their offer once again, ready to use their lawyers to retrieve Mihael back to Germany, but totally unconcerned with the accusation of rape. I already knew that they didn't give a fuck about Mihael as their son so that didn't surprise me to the slightest, but they had some interest somewhere for wanting him back to his native country so badly, obviously.  
I was only relieved that, knowing it was the Mafia, they hadn't done anything drastic about the situation or harmed anyone.

The Mafia... I still couldn't believe it. Well, I did, but it was so foreign to me... It was like aliens and the matrix, it was some kind of unrealistic concept out of a movie and I could hardly imagine it fitting my own reality.  
And right now I was just too anxious and overjoyed that I dismissed it voluntarily, as big as it was.

So here we were. Day two of Mihael being awake, the Keehls gone, and me being as annoying as a mosquito turning around my parents, running to the phone each time it rang. My father finally kept it in hand to prevent me to answer it because my impatience kind of made me rude toward the prosecutor. I wanted to see Mihael for fuck's sake!

I was already feeling the tears sting my eyes when once again my father hung up and looked at me, shaking his head as a sign that I was still not able to visit MihaeL.  
That night I went to bed and cried myself to sleep. Even if it was not as bad as crying myself to sleep because I was fearing for Mihael's life, it was still painful, I was in need of him, so badly. Just a look into his room, only a glimpse of his face, that's all I wanted...

I was woken up by my father shaking me.  
"Mail, wake up. Mail, hurry up, come on, get ready, we're leaving for the hospital..."  
"WHAT?!" I rubbed my eyes, suddenly in panic, my mind not completely awake. What happened? Mihael! Oh fuck no... please no, not that! My brain was already on drama alert, thinking that the worst had happened.  
"You're allowed to visit Mihael, now come on, get dressed, we have to leave." My father reassured me, seeing as I was freaking out.  
I almost knocked him out as I jumped out of bed. I didn't even take the time to open the blinds or light the lamp beside my bed, I ran to my closet, scrabbling for clothes that I quickly put on before running to the living room.

My parents were both ready to go too, and as we left the parking lot in my parents' car, my mother trying, from the front seat, to comb my messy hair with her fingers, I realised, looking at the tiny vehicle clock, that it wasn't even 6 in the morning.  
My surprise didn't escape my father's eyes that were looking at me in the rearview mirror.  
"The prosecutor called, Mihael's lawyer is going to get you in to see Mihael. Whatever happens, be polite ok, son?"  
My father knew me well. I could possibly unleash my negative feelings on the prosecutor so he was making sure I behaved. Truth is, the situation made me totally uncaring for being an asshole. Call me selfish, but all that mattered was _when _I would be able to see Mihael. But My father had said 'son' so he was damn serious, I better behave.

When we arrived, the prosecutor himself, along with Mihael's assigned lawyer, were on the border of the road, just before the hospital's parking lot, waving for us to stop there. It was obvious we weren't supposed to be there.  
"Come with me Mail. Sorry Madam, it would be too difficult to let you all in, I..." the lawyer began but my mother cut him, understanding that it was already much and that if anyone was able to sneak in among us three, it was obvious that it would be me.

I exited the car and followed the two men. We reached the back entrance and I was surprised to see that the lawyer had a pass.  
Under my questioning gaze, he explained that the policemen guarding Mihael's room had to come from there since it would be too much fuss if they arrived from the main entrance everyday.  
After a talk with the doctor, leading the topic toward the specific subject he had in mind, the lawyer had managed to have Zimmerman explain the various ways to favour the recovery in a situation such as Mihael's, one being the presence of the loved ones and family. Zimmerman himself, as rotten as he could be, had admitted that the Keehls, although being family, were of no use in that domain, but that the presence of Mail may have positive effects on Mihael. He had seen with his own eyes Mail's feelings for Mihael, even if he had somehow mocked him.  
The added bonus that the lawyer took advantage of was that Zimmerman himself had started to be more than afraid of the Keehls. Mrs Keehl had implied many threats once Dr Zimmerman had refused her bribing, but the presence of the lawyer had made the choice head toward legality, although Zimmerman was an easy man to corrupt.

The lawyer hadn't said a thing about it to the doctor, but even if Zimmerman had accepted any sop from the Keehls, Mihael wouldn't have left the country. The medical advice couldn't prevail over law. What bothered him more was that if Mihael's parents, as surrounded by their own law counselling court as they were, therefore aware of that fact, had insisted nonetheless, there was something fishy about it. And if Zimmerman knew of anything possible, then he was even more rotten than the lawyer had imagined he was.

Dismissing the matter for a moment, the lawyer had since then convinced Zimmerman to allow Mail to visit Mihael. The only condition to the agreement had been for Mail to visit alone and before opening hours, at times when the staff was the less numerous around Mihael.  
Policemen on guard were briefed and a pass had been given to the lawyer by Zimmerman himself, making it clear that although he had made it possible, he wouldn't take part to it.  
The Keehls could show up anytime and he didn't want to be stuck between law and the Mafia. All he wanted was for Mihael to finally speak, recover, get out of here, and his own life to go back to normal, without lawyers, Mafia or annoying gay boyfriends.

That was doing it for me. Anything would have done it, as long as I could finally see Mihael.  
The lawyer just took extra precautions so the medias weren't alerted in any way. After all the fuss they had made these last days it was better that my visits were kept unknown from the public.

We crossed neverending corridors and finally reached Mihael's room.  
The two policemen stood up from their chairs as we approached and simply nodded to the lawyer before sitting again. One resumed his nap while the other went back to his crosswords.  
Apart from them, we hadn't met anyone on our way.

The lawyer opened the door and let me in.  
And suddenly the wait was over. The pain, the fear, the sorrow, it all vanished.

Mihael was still in an awful state, bandages covering his face and probably his whole body under the sheet, the few skin I could see was still purplish, his nails broken and fingertips bloody, barely beginning to heal, but he was there, in front of my eyes.

That wasn't enough. I looked at the lawyer, and he smiled to me.  
"What are you waiting for? Be careful though, but you can kiss him you know." His voice was soft, reassuring, and I started crying.  
Wiping my tears, I approached the bed. The lawyer discreetly closed the door to leave me with some privacy.

**Mello**  
My heart started beating faster even before my mind acknowledged his presence. I don't know if it was the familiar sound of his steps, the shuffling of fabric as he would, like usual, take his hands out of his pockets, or the well known smell of cigarette mixed with his everyday soap and shampoo. I just knew.  
So when he, carefully, tentatively, caressed the back of my hand with the tip of his fingers, I realised how bad my state was.

All at once I wanted to scream, stand up, hold him, and my brain had no control over my cognitive functions, I could barely crack my eyes open and even the faint whimper that tried to escape me was so inaudible that I didn't hear myself utter it. It hit me like a storm. I suddenly saw the whole accident loop behind my lids, every detail, I was feeling the fear again, the excruciating pain and the certitude that I was going to die and I started to cry, it was so painful because every sob shook my already aching body, but I couldn't stop.

I knew that I had probably been stuck here in this hospital for days, weeks, the extent of the situation was only occurring to me now but I was aware of my own state enough to know that if I was unable to use my body, if I was wearing a minerva, if even trying to speak was almost impossible, then I was in a pretty bad shape.

The reasoning didn't prevent the wave of panic that washed over me. I just wanted to call Mail, to tell him to help me, to take me in his arms, and the tears stung my face and even if I was alive now, maybe I was dying, and I didn't want to die without doing all the things I had planned to do with him, not only the date, but all the rest, the sex, that stupid matter that had prevented us to make love properly until now, and fuck, there was a lifetime of things I craved to do with him. I wanted it all and now I couldn't even tell him that I loved him more than everything.  
You know how it felt? Imagine being claustrophobic and locked in a coffin, buried alive. That's how it felt. I was trapped in my own body and I was so fucking scared and freaking out that I didn't have enough time ahead of me, oh God help me... please help me!

**Matt**  
I regretted almost immediately touching him.  
I don't know what I had done wrong but Mihael was all of a sudden agitated, and I could see that he was crying. He could obviously barely move but his body shook and tears were flooding his face. He was trying to say something but I couldn't hear more than a whistling breath.  
I was devastated. I had no clue as to what he was going through, what he was thinking, feeling right now. Was he aware that I was there? I wanted to comfort him, but I was afraid to break him... he looked to fragile, so frail in that bed...

Carefully, I slid my hand around his, holding it without any pressure, and cupped his face, the side that wasn't under bandages, with my other palm. Once I did, I tried not to move my fingers, not to scrape the surface of his scratched skin, I just wanted him to feel the heat of my hand, to know that I was there, that I would protect him. I bent over, and brought my lips close to his ear.  
"Mihael, it's me, Mail... shhh, it's ok, everything's ok, you'll get better soon and... I missed you so much Mihael, but I'm here, everything's gonna be fine now."  
What more could I tell him? I wanted things to be fine, and I'd fight for them to be. I don't know what his parents had in store, but there, with Mihael so weak, so wounded, I think I would find the guts to kill them if I had to.  
I hoped it would never come to such an extend, but I would.

More tears were running from the only eye that wasn't covered, but he had stopped shaking, and I was a bit relieved. Had he heard me?

The lawyer knocked softly to the door and opened it a second later.  
"Mail, I'm sorry, I can't let you in any longer, the doctor allowed only ten minutes so we need to go now."  
Only ten minutes? My heart sank to my feet.  
"Will I be able to come back?" I asked, ready to burst into tears.  
"Tomorrow, probably." he smiled, "Say goodbye to Mihael for now, he needs to rest."  
He closed the door, waiting for me on the other side.

I bent again over Mihael, and deposited a kiss as gentle as possible on his chapped lips. This simple action made it even harder for me to leave. It was our first kiss in weeks, and I wanted to stay by his side.  
I took my hand off of Mihael's face, and the loss of contact tore my heart apart. Why did I have to leave him here alone? Why couldn't I stay?

I suddenly felt a slight pressure of his fingers on my hand that was still holding him. My heart rose back from my feet to my chest and violently tried to escape my ribcage.  
"Mihael..." I was happy, so happy, because it had probably taken a huge amount of energy, and an excruciating pain for him to do just that. It was the smallest gesture, and it was so much that I was exploding of joy.  
Our first communication in weeks.


	51. Chapter 51

_**Note: **I'm finally back to this story and I will be updating only this one until it's complete. I won't post any new story until I only have Lithium ongoing.  
Expect at least a weekly update, but I shall post more often depending on how my novel is progressing._

_In case you wondered what I was doing all this time leaving TSFMS aside, I worked on my novel, completed The Zoo Hypothesis and Negative (that you can find on my profile), and fought writer's block._

_I needed to re-read a few chapters before I got back to it, and realised that there were many typos but I don't feel like correcting them, too much work for now. So, sorry for the typos :)  
_

* * *

**Matt**  
Laid in my bed, naked under the sheets, my mother sending me to get some more rest when we got home from the hospital, I was in heaven. The worry was put aside, swept under the carpet of bliss I was floating on now. Mihael was awake, and I had seen him. He had even held my hand, even if the gesture had been faint. It was so much to me...  
I had cried when I had been forced to leave after the ten minutes I had been allotted, but the promise that I could probably see him again tomorrow helped me to accept to exit his room.  
Now I was supposed to sleep when my whole body felt the excitement of the situation. That was impossible.  
For some reason, the excitement reached my nether regions, unexpectedly. Maybe it was the happiness, maybe all this time of abstinence, when sex was as far from my thoughts as possible, was making my body want some relief.  
Whatever it was, I was soon stroking myself, reaching completion at the thought of Mihael's lips wrapped around me, and it left me sobbing, when all I could see was his chapped lips and bruises.

I got up and took a shower, then logged in on my instant messenger, Jeremy immediately contacting me. Did the guy ever sleep?  
I told him what had happened this morning, but for once, he was a lot less chatty than usual. Not that I minded, because as nice as the guy was, he was on me way too much. Of course he had helped me a lot, and I should be grateful, but... I couldn't explain it, it was just too much. And... it was probably an awful thing to say but I only needed Mihael, and I had him back, so I didn't need Jeremy. There was no place for him in my life.

I heard my mother in the kitchen and decided to join her.  
She was baking pancakes, the coffee running, and her face as she turned to greet me with a smiling 'good morning' on her lips carried me back to the times when everything was just normal. We had only been separated for two hours or so but she just made this morning a regular one, and it felt good. My father joined, adjusting his wristwatch, his hair still damp, smelling of aftershave, that same scent I'd smelled for as far as I could remember, the cheap supermarket one you could see the add of on TV. The ad itself hadn't been changed for fifteen years at least.

I grabbed the freshly made coffee, pouring it in the three cups already on the dining room table. It was funny to think that the table was set for three, when my mother had no reason to think that I'd be there so early. Or maybe she had reasons, ones that only mothers have...  
I hugged her with one arm as she kissed my cheek, walking past me to deposit the plate of pancakes on the table, still holding the coffee pot with the other. I caught my father staring when I left the coffee pot on the table, and I knew that no matter what had happened, what was happening, the love he felt for his family would never change. He may not agree with what my mother had done, but there was still so much pride and love in his eyes that I knew that my world was still standing strong.  
All I wanted now was for Mihael to sit at this table with us again, and feel part of my family. His was so fucked-up, so not a family... but he had one waiting for him here.

I tried to keep myself busy the whole day, but it was pretty difficult to keep my mind off the looping trailer in my mind: Mihael would soon be better, he would get out of the hospital and we'd be together again as if nothing had happened. I gave up trying to read, watch TV or anything else when my mother came back from work, practically begging her to let me help with dinner.

She sent me to bed early, in case I'd be able to see Mihael the next day, but I could see in her eyes that she had no hope for me to really sleep. I went in my bedroom anyway, not wanting to make her upset. The mood of my parents, and mine, was so good, I didn't want to ruin it. Everything looked brighter after so much pain and stress, it was a strange feeling to be so light-hearted now, almost forgetting how bad we had had it until now.

I had ten minutes, again.  
For understandable reasons, being stress-free had let me sleep soundly for once, and when the call ringing my cue to go to the hospital came, at the exact same time as the day before, I was already showered, dressed and ready to go.  
Mihael's state was only barely better. It was still heart-wrenching to see him bandaged from head to toes, almost unable to move, if not for the slight pressure on my hand when I took his, but this time, the faint murmuring of my name gave me a lot more reasons to want to stay with him when the ten minutes were over.  
I know that I was being unreasonable for wanting to make him speak more than this, because it had probably taken all of his strength to do it, but there was so much I wanted to hear...

I joined my father at his atelier, after we had had breakfast, everything happening just like the day before, and I suspected my mother to know exactly what I needed, as she made everything regular, simple and normal. We had had so many bumps, so many unexpected events, running from one place to another, fighting, trying to solve problems and find help, she was now providing stability like the anchor that she was. I realised how much we needed her, even when we didn't even realise it. She knew way before my father or me what we needed.

By the end of the day, I felt a feeling of accomplishment I had never felt before, looking at the car I had repaired almost alone, my father only giving me tips and instructions. I slept even better that night, totally exhausted by work.

Mihael was slowly recovering, I could see the progress day after day, and even if it was frustrating, I learnt to respect those ten minutes. To cherish them even. I changed, little by little, my thoughts going from the eagerness of being with him to trying to know what I could bring him. I could see I had egoistically been in a state of mind where I only took as much as I could each time I visited him, when Mihael was the one that needed to receive the most.  
There wasn't much I could do in ten minutes, so I just talked to him, telling him about working with my dad, what the weather was like, nothing important, just harmless small talk. I wanted to make him feel safe, and as light-hearted as me, so he would know everything was okay now.  
I forbid him to talk because I knew it put a great strain on him, but the day he could finally open his lids fully, allowing me to see those beautiful eyes of him again, I was the one who was unable to speak. It suddenly made me realise, for good, that he was awake. He had been looking as in a semi-conscious state during all this time and now he was looking at me, for real. He was even trying to smile, but his dry lips cracked, drawing blood.

I dabbed them, laughing and crying at the same time, trying not to hurt him as I cupped his cheek with my other hand, the one that wasn't fully covered by gauze, staring into his eyes, catching up with the lack of seeing them for weeks.  
"You're... beau...tiful." Mihael croaked, making me cry even more.  
"Yeah, snot and tears are so sexy..." I chuckled, slowly caressing his cheek with my thumb.  
It killed me to see the lawyer arrive when my ten minutes were over, but when he told me that I wouldn't be able to see Mihael the next day, I really died.

"Mr and Mrs Keehl will come to visit him tomorrow, and even if they're unlikely to be here so early, I can't take the risk. But you can visit him again as soon as I am sure that they have left the country."  
"And what if they don't leave the country?" I asked, but the way the lawyer grimaced, I knew that I'd have to champ at the bit while those bastards would make their appearance, when they had no need, no right even, to be here.  
It was even harder to think of Mihael in their presence when I saw tears in his eyes. He was devastated. He didn't know what had happened lately, I hadn't told him, and I knew that no one had, not even the lawyer. He had no idea that his parents had tried to repatriate him to Berlin, the way they had acted, that my mother had filed a complaint for rape against him... but he would know very soon, I supposed. Maybe I should have prepared him to what was coming...  
"Will you be here when his parents are?"  
"I won't leave him alone, I'm his lawyer, don't worry about that. I'll make sure that they don't do anything stupid." the man reassured me.  
I left the hospital, my chest feeling heavy. All this mess was far from being over, and even if I tried to tell myself that they were only visiting as parents whose son had fully awoken after a terrible accident, a part of me knew that if they were crossing the Atlantic sea again, it was for a reason that had nothing to do with worry or care.

I kept on making mistakes at the garage. My father was trying to cheer me up but there was nothing that could keep my thoughts away from Mihael's parents. I was scared. I knew that he could talk, and tell them that he didn't want to go, and the complaint was still effective anyway so he couldn't leave the country, being concerned by a criminal investigation. But still... something was so wrong and I didn't know what. The Keehls were so eager to bring him back to Germany, then they didn't care for the state he was in, then they tried again by bribing Dr Zimmerman, then they disappeared, then they were coming again.

All the rage, the hurt, the determination I had felt before, back when Mihael's parents had talked to me in that café, weeks ago, trying to keep me away from the hospital so they could go on with their plan of bringing Mihael back to Germany, came back to me.  
They weren't doing all of that by pride or anything like that, they had a motive and I was sure of that. It was the Mafia, and even if I didn't know what to expect, even if I was facing people that had no hesitation playing with people's lives, I would fight.  
I had few people on my side, my own parents, who were a great moral support but couldn't do much more, Jeremy eventually. The ones that could actually be helpful didn't want to raise a finger, by fear, which wasn't really reassuring, because if they were that scared, it made it obvious that I wasn't going against a single mosquito, but a full hornet nest. Problem was, for now I didn't even know what the danger was.


	52. Chapter 52

_**Note: **weekly update! This chapter is all in Mello's POV, setting the next events in place. _

_By the way, I am looking for a fic that has been deleted from FF, the title was "The new girl I think". If anyone has saved it before it was deleted, please pleaaaase let me know!_

_Have a nice week end!_

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**Mello**  
He was here. Mail was here, with me. I could hear noises around me, voices, conversations, but I hardly could crack my eyes open. I still felt so tired although all I did was sleep...  
I heard a man tell him that he could stay ten minutes... I wanted him to stay and never leave, I couldn't stand being alone, not knowing exactly what was going on with me, it scared me, because I couldn't move, and when my body would finally authorise the slightest move, the excruciating pain I felt almost made me faint. I knew I was on painkillers. Morphine. I knew the feeling. And it did hurt still. That was obviously bad, pretty bad.

But Mail was talking to me, and I wanted him to stay here and keep talking. I felt sane, hearing him chat about anything and everything. I didn't want to scream out of fear of being trapped in a body that didn't do what I wanted it to do. But soon he would be gone, so I had to reason myself. He'd be back tomorrow from what I could hear, I had to control my emotions at least, if I couldn't control my cognitive functions. No more panic, it didn't do any good. I could do that... breathe, wait for him to come back, just wait, it would get better, wouldn't it?

It did. I could, with so much effort, so much pain, utter his name. I wanted him to know I wasn't sleeping or unconscious. And little by little, my body finally allowed me more each day. When I finally could open my eyes fully, I had a hard time adjusting to the bright light of the room, but there he was, leant over me, staring, with this smile on his face that erased all my fears, just like that. He was so beautiful, it felt like seeing him for the first time again. I remembered the real first time I had seen him, those same eyes I fell for, but they were not mocking me... not anymore, not after all we had lived together... I smiled at the thought, but my dry lips cracked painfully. Carefully, he cleaned the blood, his hands touching my face tenderly. He was beautiful, really. Outside and inside.

To think of how far he was coming from, it takes a wonderful being to change like that...  
"You're... beau...tiful." I tried to tell him, my voice coming out husky and pained.  
He gave me one of his silly answers, and it settled me back in reality for good, the way he would make fun of anything, his little laughter, and everything about him, his scent, this tee shirt he was wearing that I knew...

But the reality came crashing stronger than I wanted it to, when I heard the man that was here everyday with Mail tell him that my parents would come to visit me tomorrow. I didn't want to see them if that meant not seeing Mail, and from what I was hearing, things were far from being great between them. I supposed that my parents had come already, they were my parents after all, and it was normal that they came back now that I was awake, although I felt a pinch of disappointment knowing that they hadn't even stayed by my side all this time... even if I wasn't exactly surprised. They hadn't even been there most of the time when I had come back to Germany during the holidays so...  
But when I heard the man say that Mail couldn't come to visit me until they had left the country, I understood the full extent of the animosity that seemed to exist between him and my parents. I could feel tears sting my eyes, I just wanted them to stay in Germany and leave us the fuck alone... I remembered the way things had happened back in Berlin when they had learnt about our relationship, the insults and everything, it hadn't been pretty, but there was something more. I knew my parents could be really mean, and apparently Mail had had some trouble with them that I didn't know of.  
I wanted to know, I needed to ask him, but he was already gone before I could say anything. My voice failed me at the worst time...

it was awful to have my mind now fully functioning, and my body not following.  
Well, minus the morphine. When a dose was given to me, I had my brain wrapped in cotton for a moment before I could think straight. When it was like that, I wanted to endure the pain to be able to have my thoughts clear, but then, the pain was so unbearable that all I wanted was another shot.

But when my parents arrived the next day, I wished I could stay in that floating-on-a-cloud like state as long as they were here, because then I wouldn't have noticed the lack of worry in their behaviour. We weren't exactly on super good terms, but still... it hurt. My own parents didn't care that I was stuck here, in the state I was in. They entered the room, came by my bedside, and when my father tried to ask me how I felt, my mother cut him, telling me it was about time that I woke up. Seriously? Of course I had stayed unconscious on purpose, people do that to piss their parents off, huh?  
I couldn't do much except listen to them, or more precisely my mother. All she had to say was related to me coming back to Berlin with them. Why? Why would I even want to follow them back there when they didn't care for me, and leave Mail behind? Even them knew that, so why bother trying to convince me?

"He won't be allowed to leave the country as long as he is filed for rape, you know that." The lawyer stated to my parents.  
I had understood that the man that had been around the previous days when Mail visited me was my lawyer, but somehow I hadn't registered it like him being here to defend me. In my mind it was something related to the accident, I didn't really process the situation until now so he could be a lawyer or anything else, only Mail's presence counted. But maybe I should have paid a lot more attention and asked some questions to him, before the truth got shoved in my face without preparation. Rape? What the fuck?! When?! Who?! Was that a sick joke?!  
I tried to sit in the bed, my whole body protesting for the pain I inflicted it, but the lawyer tried to calm me down.  
"Don't worry." he simply whispered, pushing me back down on the bed. Sure, I had no reason to worry...

I looked at my mother, she seemed totally unfazed. Not a single sign of emotion, if not for the constant annoyance she adorned each time she was dealing with me. I suddenly realised how much I hated her.  
"You know it's not serious." she told the lawyer, "Do you think we're stupid enough to believe anything else than this being a way to keep him here in the US?"  
"You think what you want Madam. Mihael isn't leaving the country for now, so you really should stop with your constant plead. He _can't_ leave."  
I could tell that he was starting to get nervous with my mother's insistence.

It made sense. The rape complaint I mean. Was it Mail? In any case, I was somehow relieved that they couldn't take me with them. Now I was awake and could speak for myself, but Mail had probably done his best to keep me here as long as I couldn't. I didn't need to be a genius to know that if he had gone that far, it was because he didn't have a choice. Damn, the things he had done... the things he had gone through...

"I want to see Mail." I whispered, articulating painfully, making sure I was heard.  
"Nein! Diese kleine Hure-" (_No, this little whore-_) my mother began, but the lawyer cut her: "Madam. Please."  
She gave him a dark look, but she actually shut up. The lawyer could obviously understand, and maybe even speak German. Which made sense, if Mail was involved, he had probably made sure of that. Oh God, how I loved him...

"I don't think we need to resort to insults." he added, but his cell phone rang, preventing him to speak further.  
He went in the corridor for some privacy, and came back a few minutes later, the silence in my room being unbearable, my parents not even saying a word to me. They felt like strangers. My mother had her eyes glued to the door, but she didn't have time to say a word when it opened and the lawyer came back, he spoke right away.  
"Mrs Keehl, Mr Keehl, I will ask you to leave now, I need to speak with my client."  
"But I... we..." My mother protested, but he pushed them out.  
"Wait for my call tomorrow, until that, you're not allowed any visit." he stated, my mother reddening with anger and turning around to face him.  
"What?! Do you know who I am?! I will visit when I want-"  
"No you won't." he cut her abruptly, "Mihael is in a state where he can decide for himself, and I'll keep you informed, should he decide that he wants to see you. You are his parents, but he's legally able to refuse your presence here since the matter in his hands and mines does not concern you in the slightest. You were his legal representatives as long as he was unconscious, as stipulated in his insurance contract, but now you're out of the equation." he looked at me, and I shook my head, or at least tried to, but I wanted them all to know that I didn't want to see my parents again.

Once they were gone for good, the lawyer approached a chair and sat next to my bed.  
"Thank you..." I murmured. I was glad that he had had the nerve to throw them out, because I was exhausted, and completely devastated by my parents' attitude.  
"You're welcome. I'm not supposed to make any judgement but... oh well, let's get to the good news! The complaint has been abandoned. You're totally free, and innocent of course. Mrs Jeevas has made her homework early this morning, as soon as Dr Zimmerman signed the papers stating you had recovered your full mental capacities."  
"Mrs Jeevas?" I would have opened wide eyes if I had been able to.  
"She was the plaintiff, yes. But it was only a way to keep you here. Your parents understood that, but they couldn't do anything anyway, as much as they tried. Listen, this is only between you and me, I'm not supposed to be discussing this with you, false statement, when it comes to criminal pursuits, is very severely punished. I'm pretty sure that you won't be suing her though." he chuckled.  
"Of course not... But... if they knew, why didn't they attack her? I mean... that's totally something they would do..."  
"It wasn't in their best interest." the lawyer didn't explain further but somehow I felt like he wasn't telling me everything he knew, "So, now, as I said, you can decide for yourself, you're a free man, you're legal, your parents have no say in the matter, and from what I have understood, you're not really happy with your parents' presence, and definitely not planning to go back to Germany. You can refuse their visits from now on, and you can even see Mail as much as you want, well, depending on what the doctor will say, that is, because you're still weak. But if you want my advice, you should talk to your parents. Their insistence about bringing you back to Germany isn't innocent, and I have witnessed it myself that it's not out of parental worry so... don't send them back to Berlin yet, they may have a few things to tell you."  
"I want to see Mail." I didn't want my parents, but I knew that something was up. They were the quibbling kind, and they could have gotten at Mail for revenge purposes, through his mother, but they hadn't although they hated him. They were preparing something. But what? What could they possibly want? They were ashamed of me, I was far away, what more could they want? I knew that somehow, I would have to have a word about that with them...


	53. Chapter 53

_**Note: **You can actually thank Chase Mihael Keehl for this chapter :)_**  
**

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**Mello**  
The next day, the lawyer called my parents, in front of me, on my demand.  
He was more than certainly right about them being up to something, and I needed to talk to them. Knowing my mother, she could spit it out, on the very possible off chance that her mind wasn't fast enough to stop her mouth from talking.

I knew that it was a trait that my father hated in her. I had sometimes wondered if they loved each other, their relationship was never intimate, or I never witnessed it, actually, no kisses, no hands holding, no tender gestures, nothing. I had always put that on account of the fact that they weren't demonstrative, but now, the doubt was there. The way they acted toward each other right in front of my hospital bed was more than a reserve about public displays of affection, they looked so cold toward each other...

They were very different and I never knew why my father had married my mother, what had made him fall for her. Even on the pictures of her young, she wasn't pretty. But he was handsome and highly educated, and although she was from a good family too, her temper was something hateful most of the time. I suppose that he was just too laid back.

I had loved my parents, I never really had a family life like Mail had, but I wasn't unhappy per se. I knew they hated me being gay but as long as we avoided the subject and didn't stay around each other too much, everything was fine. Or at least, that's what I believed at the time. They wished I wasn't gay, they were often busy, but other than that, that was my family, that was how it worked. But since they had known I was with Mail, it was different. And since I had seen Mail's family, and the fact that they treated me more like a member of their family than my own did, the gap between the two changed my view on things.

But before I talked to them, I wanted to see Mail. Today would be only about him and me catching up, my parents could wait tomorrow. I also did this on purpose, because I wanted Mail to tell me if he had interacted with my parents, and what had happened, so I was up to date with everything before I talked to them. Maybe they had told him something, a clue, anything.  
It wouldn't be easy, speaking was still straining me a lot, but I didn't want it to last, I had always hated unresolved situations, and I just wanted to resume my happy life with Mail. With my parents out of the picture.  
I was aware that what was waiting for me was a long rehabilitation process, I wasn't dumb, I knew in which state I was in and that it wouldn't be easy to recover fully, but I couldn't care less.

I was happy that I could finally sit in my bed (well, if you can call sitting the fact that the head of the bed was slightly elevated...) because I couldn't stand laying there all day. And I could see the people facing me better.  
It was a weird feeling to witness my own improvement. I had had the impression of being stuck there, unable to do anything, and now I finally could move a bit (at least just my non broken arm, and my non broken hand, which unfortunately weren't on the same side so it was pretty useless), and my head didn't feel so heavy that I couldn't hold it up. The pain was lessening, too, and the doctor explained to me that my body was now recovering faster, not so tired anymore of dealing with the pain. I still had weeks in bed ahead of me though, due to my various fractures, and the complications they had created, but I had been informed that part of my bandages would be taken off next week, the skin on my face, and mostly on my upper half, was now able to heal without protection.

When Mail arrived, I smiled but stopped just in time. I felt my lips so dry, ready to split open again, and grimaced.  
The lawyer left, leaving us alone, as Mail approached the bed. He fumbled in his pocket a bit, and, leaning, he deposited a kiss on my lips, smiling and looking in my eyes, before opening the cap of a small plastic tube. A strong cherry smell came to my nose as he started to rub the chapstick over my lips.  
"They didn't have chocolate." he chuckled, carefully applying the greasy substance, "There. Now you can give me your most beautiful smile."  
And I did. It was a very simple thing, but the fact that he had thought about such a small detail made me realise how attentive he was to me.

We chatted a bit, but soon the conversation drifted to my parents. I managed to tell him how they had reacted and what they had said, but the face he was making, there was something wrong.  
"Mail... is there something I should know? Tell me what happened with them... I know something happened."  
He told me everything. From day one of my accident. How they had tried to bring me back to Germany, how he had argued with them. But there was something he wasn't telling me. He almost did, it had something to do with the prosecutor, he was telling me about his fight to get help from the man but had stopped abruptly, and there was a missing piece. Mail had tried to make it up but I knew that he was purposely omitting something.  
But no matter how much I insisted, he kept his ground and told me there was nothing more, that I was worrying for nothing.

But still, I couldn't believe how far my parents had gone. I didn't recognise them at all. They would have taken the risk for me to die, just to bring me back to Germany? Now I understood why Mail's mother had gone to such an extent to keep me here...  
I didn't insist more than what I did already with Mail, because I was starting to feel exhausted. It had been two hours that we had been catching up.  
It was still really hard to believe, all that he had done for me. I'm glad that he had gotten help though, because the way he talked about everything, I could feel how much it had taken a toll on him. But there was something I would have to clear as soon as possible: that Jeremy that apparently helped a little too much to my opinion. I wasn't jealous, I trusted Mail completely, but I didn't trust the guy. Maybe I was wrong, but something was ticking me.

**Matt**  
The pirouette I managed to do when I realised that I was about to speak about the Mafia unfortunately didn't go unnoticed. I did my best to lure Mihael into thinking that nothing more had happened with the prosecutor, but I knew he didn't believe me completely. He gave up trying to make me say it though, and for once I was grateful that he got easily tired, because his stubbornness would have been hard to deal with otherwise.

The prosecutor had warned me, I shouldn't be the one telling Mihael that his parents were in the Mafia, and from what I could see, Mihael didn't know for sure. I know that he wouldn't doubt me if I told him, but he didn't need to know. Soon we would get rid of his parents since he could refuse their visit, they would be back to Germany, and all would be good and the Mafia part forgotten.

I could see that he was slowly speaking less and less, so I decided to let him rest, and just stayed here next to him, holding his non broken hand.  
His nails were in such an awful shape, and he still had dried blood all over them.  
"I'll be right back." I smiled to him and exited the room, trying to find a nurse.

I came back with a small recipient full of soapy water, a toothbrush, a nailfile and a towel.  
Carefully, I cleaned as much blood as I could, the broken hand was the hardest one because I was afraid to hurt Mihael, but I couldn't stand seeing his hands in such a state.  
It took me a while, but except where the nails had been torn, it looked pretty decent. It had healed a lot in three weeks, and soon the broken nails would be long enough to cover the tip of his fingers again.  
I patted his fingers dry with the towel, and made my best to remove any sharp edge with the file.  
"I'll steal some red nail polish to my mother for next time." I winked at him, putting everything away.

My poor Mihael was exhausted. I couldn't decide if I should leave him or not, part of me knowing he wouldn't rest fully if I was here because he was fighting to stay awake, the other not wanting to go, but a nurse came to tell me that it would be best for me to leave now. I kissed Mihael, tasting the cherry chapstick on his lips, and put some more before exiting the room, seeing him smile to me sleepily as I closed the door.

I was anxious. He would see his parents tomorrow, alone, without me, without the lawyer. But I knew the time they were supposed to be here, and I wouldn't be far. There was no way I'd let them without surveillance, even if it was from afar. And I would be by Mihael's side as soon as they would leave. Of course because I was eager to know what they had to say, but mainly because Mihael was hurt by their behaviour, and I wanted to comfort him. I know that he wasn't close to leaving the hospital but if he couldn't be with my family, my... his real family would come to him.  
My mother was impatient to see him again, and it was even more obvious by the way she questioned me as soon as I came home from the hospital.

"My little fox!" she almost squealed when I opened the door of the apartment, "You look happy! How is Mihael? Is he better? You didn't tire him too much, did you?"  
I laughed, hugging her and kissing her cheek, "He's better, we talked a lot and he was tired so I left."  
"But you worry for him." She said, seeing me frown slightly.  
"His parents are coming to see him again tomorrow."  
"Oh... He finally agreed on seeing them?"  
"Yes, he wants to talk to them about what they have done... I'm not really sure that they'll feel sorry though, but they may tell more about their motivation, that's mainly why he wants to talk to them."  
"Well, I hope that they won't make him upset, he doesn't need that... poor angel..." my mother sighed, pouring coffee to both of us as we sat in the dining room.

The next day, half an hour before the Keehls' supposed arrival time at the hospital, I was parked close to the hospital's entrance, smoking with my window open. They would probably see me, but I didn't care. I wanted them to know that Mihael wasn't alone, and that he was guarded.

Right on time, I saw a taxi stop a few feet away from my Camaro, and the Keehls step out of it. They walked past my car, and discreet as it was, they obviously spotted me, Mihael's mother giving me a scowl, while his father averted his eyes quickly, doing as if he hadn't seen me.  
They entered the building, and the wait began.


	54. Chapter 54

_**Note: **I never thought it would take me that long, but the German dialog became a nightmare and would have taken a lot of back and forth with betaing so I tweaked things so I didn't have to include German except for a few words. This leaves me dealing with a new aspect of Mello's struggle: identity. As if I needed any more depth here but ah well... I guess that means you get more of TSFM :)_  
_Anyway, now that I finally got done with this chapter, the following ones shouldn't be so long to come. Next time I am stuck with something, I'll just tweak it because it only means it's not supposed to be like that if it doesn't come to me._

**edit:** Lestatash corrected my awful German :)

_Thank you for still being here with me :)_

_Short chapter but I couldn't leave you without a (small) cliffie ;)_

_**Request: I'm actually making my website for professional purposes (as a writer of course). What would you like to see on such a website (except the list of my work, where to buy and such)? Do you think a biography is absolutely necessary? Your help is appreciated, thanks!**_

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**Mello  
**I was less than pleased to see my parents again, and it was obviously mutual, considering the annoyance in both their features and the impatient little twitches on my mother's mouth. I hated that. I had always hated that, the way she would bite her lower lip slightly then purse it, her nose scrunching nervously. I always tried to refrain the thought it gave me before, out of respect for her, but now, my respect for her wearing extremely thin, I openly huffed at the sight of her rat face. That's what it had always looked like to me, when she did that.**  
**

I had sent the lawyer outside, for some privacy, because I knew that my parents wouldn't speak freely otherwise. I wasn't even sure they'd tell me anything but at least I would have tried.  
My mother still had no compassion for me in her eyes. I kept on searching for a hint that she, as any normal mother, worried for me, but nothing sparked in her eyes except disgust. I lost it.

When they both approached my bed, not even taking a seat, looking as if they were ready to leave anytime and unwilling to spend one minute more than necessary with me, I attacked.  
But whereas my father just shrugged and sighed, my mother simply replied that she had more important things to worry for. It had the merit to shut me up, because there was nothing I could reply to that. And there was nothing I wanted to reply anyway. I knew where they stood, all my doubts were erased.  
So I asked them why they wanted me so badly back to Berlin, if I wasn't important to them.  
Better be over with that since it was obvious they rejected me completely.

But my father spoke this time, gesturing to my mother to keep silent.  
"Du bist wichtig, Mihael, und deshalb sind wir hier." _(You are important, Mihael, that's why we are here.)_  
I huffed, he sounded _so _ convincing...

I felt an immense will of rejection myself all of a sudden, for my parents, my past life, my origins, and my native language. I replied in English, making it obvious I wouldn't be using German anymore with them. I couldn't say I felt American, I wasn't feeling like I belonged anywhere to tell the truth, although I knew I could count on Mail and his family, and that all my best days had been in California (well, minus the days with Mail in Berlin), the hurt my parents were subjecting me to made it impossible for me to stand any ground, there were too many questions, too many secrets I felt hidden behind their attitude and actions. I felt lost, and just wanted to reject anything that belonged to the source of pain.

"I'm not important as your son or even as a human being, so what is it that's so important about me for you? You want me even dead, so unless you explain, without bullshit, we do'nt have anything to say to each other anymore."  
I tried to keep my voice steady, but such a long sentence, with all the emotions I was trying to keep at bay, was a difficult shot for me, and I almost hoped that would be it, that they'd go.  
I was so tired of this, I don't even think I wanted to know anymore. What would it change anyway? Not their feelings toward me, for sure, and it didn't matter, I didn't need them, this I had realised long ago. Maybe it was the rejection talking, but my mind was slowly putting them away in the 'past to leave behind' drawer of my brain. And being so tired already didn't help.

My father at least caught my drift and replied in English as well.  
"Your grandfather will soon...leave us." he started, but stopped, obviously trying to find his words. It wasn't out of sadness at all, there was none in his eyes, he was simply trying to find the words that were adequate for what he had to say, to get what he wanted from me. He was into politics, I knew how he worked. I had seen him in action, when my parents would still bring me along to their receptions and other boring events, before I became only trouble for their image.  
"What does it have to do with me?" I sighed, averting my eyes from him, irritated by his calculating attitude.  
_  
_To tell the truth, I wasn't shocked to hear that. I had seen my grandfather (from my father's side, both my mother's parents were dead long before I was born) twice in all my life.  
The first time, I was five, and he made a duty of telling me that Santa didn't exist and that my parents were the ones to buy me presents, and he showed me the packages hidden in a cupboard as a proof. I cried for days after that. _Little boys have to know the hard truth about life as soon as possible_, he told me, _especially the ones in my position_. I was too young to understand, and later had put that on account of my father being in politics.  
The second time was when I turned sixteen, and he came to my parents' house to pay a visit, and when he saw me, he only sighed and went to my father's office. I remember hearing him say through the door (yes, I listened) that it was lucky I hadn't taken any of my mother's physical traits but that unfortunately, I didn't look like I would be intimidating enough to take up the family business when it would be time. I only recall telling myself that there was no way I'd end up in politics like my father or grandfather, but that was about all.  
So no, I wasn't shocked, the man was as despicable as can be, and to me, he wouldn't be a loss. Hell, I barely knew him anyway...

"He wanted you to take up on the family business, when I'm gone." my father explained, and I could tell something annoyed him in that statement.  
"And?" I asked, not really understanding where he was going since before me, well, there was him, in line for said business, I mean. And unless my father was dying...  
"And he saw your little whore on television, with the fuss he made in front of the hospital."  
"I didn't know he was interested in US channels." I simply replied, understanding now how far what Mail had done had gone, if it had been relayed on national television, since there was no way that my grandfather had seen the local area channel in Germany, dismissing the insult, because I was getting informations and didn't want to divert now that I was finally about to understand. "What is the problem exactly?"  
"When he learnt that you had an accident, he wanted to speak personally to the doctors. He wanted to know if you would still be capable of taking the business over."  
"So? Why didn't he come?"  
"He didn't know that you are gay."  
"Oh ... That's why you tried to bring me back to Berlin, so he wouldn't learn. Better possibly dead than gay... Then why have you insisted on bringing me back again? Why have you insisted only two days ago still? Why won't you leave me and Mail alone? I don't want to go back to Germany."  
"Because now that he knows that you're gay, he's changed his testament, and has disowned me, and you as well, of any right over the family business."

Now that was confused.  
My father was into politics, how could my grandfather disown him, and me?  
And what would bringing me back to Germany change now?  
"Care to explain how he could do that considering he has no say in your carrier? Not mentioning that I'm not taking the same path as you, and never will, but I suspect that only your own position being threatened matters to you...  
And what would my presence in Berlin change? He won't unknow that I'm gay, and I'm not going to change that, so what's going on for fuck's sake?!" I could feel my heart thump in my temples, bringing a headache along, but I didn't want to ask for water or a painkiller to them, I didn't want to have to thank them, even for the smallest thing.

"We also run a business, even if you've never been aware of it, and that was actually becoming my main activity when you left for the United States, since your grandfather was becoming too old to take care of it." He replied, obviously unwilling to say too much. But he would have to, because there was no point in continuing this conversation otherwise.

"What kind of business?"  
"It's not important Mihael... I-"  
"Then we're done. Leave." I cut him. All of this was so pointless...  
"Mihael, come back with us in Berlin, at least until your grandfather changes his mind. Your mother and me will try not to be hard on you, we'll act as a family and tell your grandfather that you being gay was just a phase, and then when everything is back as it was, you can come back here after your grandfather's funerals."

Wow. That was brutal. All at once ready to fake things and not even ashamed to admit that they had been hard on me, eager to see my grandfather die, and totally focused on not losing his position whatever it was, to the detriment of truth or people around him. My father was a monster.

"You will _try_?" I chuckled sadly, the irony killing me, "The answer is no. Not that you expected anything else, right? Why would I do you this favour, when you're such a piece of thrash, both of you, that I can't even call you my parents anymore?" I was past trying to be respectful or polite myself, I didn't want to be related to them, and they weren't my parents anymore from that moment.  
"Don't you understand Mihael that I will lose everything?!" My father's face was suddenly really pale, "Alles! _(everything!)_.

My mother looked at him, and I was shocked at the expression in her eyes. I had never seen her look at my father, or even me, like that. She was furious and so, so disappointed, no, a better word would be _acid_. She would have burnt holes into him if she could have.  
I could understand that if my father lost everything, as he said, she was less than pleased, because she was a sucker for appearances and everything that came with a life as the wife of someone important, but what would it change to their way of life? They still had a huge amount of money, and a secure income from my father's political carrier so what was the deal? Something was still left unsaid, but I wasn't sure they would tell me absolutely everything...


	55. Chapter 55

**_Note: _**_What can I say except 'sorry'? I really thought I'd update sooner, but well, it's done now!_  
_To make up for the wait, I squeezed a bit in here ^^  
_  
_I'm also behind with mails and private messages, I'll catch up as soon as possible ^^_

* * *

**Matt  
**It had only been half an hour and here I was, tapping the steering wheel nervously with a hand while the other brought the sixth cigarette in a row to my lips. Saying I was a mess inside was an understatement, I was properly freaking out, my stomach twisting in painful ways, my palms sweating as well as drops rolling down my back. It was supposed to be a talk, and nothing else, but Mihael's parents actions in the last weeks had been in total opposition with his well-being, hell, they had even endangered his life, so I couldn't help but imagine the worst scenarii happening in there. And what could they possibly want? Mihael had no idea that his father ruled the Mafia, so he wasn't a threat to them, all of this was just nonsense: they wanted him, but they rejected him. For fuck's sake, make this wait end!**  
**

Then minutes more, and I was starting to curse out loud, once walking nearby my car, once sitting back, my legs shaking on their own accord. I was restless, unable to be comfortable in or out of the vehicle. I'd only be when I'd be with him anyway, so at some point I didn't bother anymore and just sat smoking again.

I was ready to hit my head against the steering wheel in frustration when I saw Mihael's parents exit through the main door of the hospital. I blinked, trying to catch a glimpse of their faces as I slid off the driver's seat, hoping it would tell me what to expect, but they just looked the same as when they entered, maybe a bit more tensed.

I couldn't care less about being only a few feet away and walked to the door, crossing their path while doing so. I got the usual glare from Mrs Keehl but I ignored her, only focusing on reaching Mihael as fast as possible to make sure he was fine.

I tried not to run in the corridors but that was really taking all my self control away. I stopped and breathed when I reached Mihael's room and heard his voice. Although tired and weak, it was the most reassuring thing right now.  
I softly knocked on the door, that was slightly open, before peering in, spotting the lawyer.  
"Come in!" he told me, "I'll leave you some intimacy, I just wanted to make sure Mihael was okay before I left."  
I supposed that he had been waiting outside the room while Mihael's parents were here and nodded to him gratefully.  
I watched him leave, then turned to Mihael, a smile on my face. It only grew bigger when he smiled back and patted the empty space beside him on the bed.

I sat, the mattress barely lowering under my weight. Damn, this bed was so hard and uncomfortable... and to think that Mihael was spending all his time laid there. It only made me want to bring him back with me even more.  
"Closer." he whispered, his arm barely raising as if to urge me to access his request. I knew how much effort it was taking out of him to make this simple gesture, and seeing his smile being replaced by a sad expression all of a sudden, I obliged quickly, knowing something was very wrong. I laid beside him, as close as possible without laying any weight on him, my chest against his shoulder and arm, my hand resting on his chest, my chin against his temple.

It was not long until I felt his chest shake under the sobs that were now escaping him, and I felt his head shift, his nose burying in the crook of my neck. I didn't need to see his face to know that tears had started to fall. I wanted to cup his cheek, but the scar eating that side of his face made it impossible, the skin still red and breakable in that area. So I drew my arm from his side to let it rest around his head, over on the pillow, pulling myself a little higher, so his shoulder was against my chest, and my lips against his hair. That was the closest to hugging him that I could get, and it was killing me. He clearly needed support, comfort, a physical reassurance, and I could barely give it to him in his state.

It seemed to be enough though, because his breathing evened out after the sobs ended. He had fallen asleep. My poor angel... what had they told him?  
I couldn't resist the urge to push a few strands away from his forehead, kissing it carefully, when I felt him nuzzle my neck and inhale deeply.  
"Bleib bei mir..."_ (stay with me) _I heard him mumble against my skin. I didn't speak German but I still knew a few words thanks to him, and this I understood. Soon his breathing was even again.

He was exhausted and even if I knew that his condition was for the most part responsible of that, I couldn't help but think that his mind had shut off as soon as he had felt safe again. It made my heart swell. I had felt so helpless, not being able to hold him properly, but knowing that a simple thing as the scent of my skin was making him better erased the guilt I felt. I know I wasn't responsible of his accident, but somehow, not being able to help him with his recovery, not knowing what his parents were up to, the overall situation, it drove me crazy. I had allowed myself to be a mess when after all he was the one suffering. I had to be stronger because he obviously needed me.

I laid by his side for hours, the nurse checking on me when visiting hours ended, trying to convince me to leave, but I didn't move. I even had her call my mum with my cell phone, asking her to take it in my back pocket, just so my parents wouldn't worry when they would not see me come back home, but I stayed where I was. There was no way I could leave him, he had asked me to stay and that's exactly what I intended to do. He may be sleeping, he may have murmured the words in a half daze, but I had felt his distress and that was my role to be here. She sighed as she set my cell phone on the bedside table, and left, closing the door. They were used to see me here so I guess they didn't argue anymore because of that.

**Mello**  
It took me a while to process my surroundings when I emerged from my nap. Which had been a lot more than a nap considering that the room was in the dark, only the ray coming from under the closed door giving me barely enough light to distinguish things. I realised that Matt was beside me when I straightened my head on the pillow and felt my nose brush against his shoulder, even before his trademark scent reached my nostrils, which gave me a hard time remembering what had happened and why he was there before it all made sense again.  
I couldn't believe that he was still there. I mean, I was happy, more than that even, but it was clear considering the fact that it was night that visiting hours were long passed and it was probably around 3 or 4pm when he had laid beside me, which meant that he had stayed by my side for long hours.

I turned my head again, wanting to get as much of his scent as possible. It was familiar, the smell of smoke mixing with cheap soap and citrus shampoo. It smelled of safety.  
And this is what I felt like I needed right now. I was stuck here, and if anything happened, I was helpless. I never liked having someone take charge for me, it would always be a tear in my pride, but the despair I felt at the moment erased my ego completely.

The fact that the conversation with my parents ended on a lot of unspoken facts and mysteries gave me a bad vibe. I knew what they were capable of and although I didn't know what it was all about, something really bothered me. They were too insistent, and I was afraid. They hadn't said anything special in the end but I don't know... maybe I was overreacting because first I couldn't move as I wanted, and second I was unable to protect Mail from them if anything happened... it was making me pessimistic and nervous.

"Hey sleeping beauty..." Mail's voice, low and soft, preceded his lips on my temple.  
"I thought you had fallen asleep too." I murmured, my mouth against his tee shirt. It was in the way, and I wanted to feel his skin but my only available arm wasn't healed and I couldn't use it, the other was not broken but on the same side as him and his tee-shirt was out or reach for this one. I grunted in frustration.  
"I dozed off but I felt you move... anything wrong?" he asked, hearing me groan.  
"I miss you." I replied, sighing.  
"I'm right here." Mail whispered, and I felt his hand in my hair, his lips grazing on my forehead, leaving butterfly kisses.  
It suddenly brought the tears back, and the more I tried to hold them back, the more tensed I was, which he didn't miss.  
"Hey, it's okay, I'm not going anywhere, all will be fine. Soon you'll be able to leave this place... although you may regret it because my mother is waiting for you with the perfect nurse gear and she will make sure to pamper you like a four year old." he chuckled.  
It was silly, but if things really went this way, I was more than happy.  
Why did it have to be people that weren't even blood related with me that felt like family to me?

"My parents are hiding something." I stated suddenly. I needed this off my chest.  
"What did they say?" Mail asked, propping himself on his elbow.  
"Nonsense..." I related him the whole conversation, and he was the one to get tensed all of a sudden. Was he scared, just like me? "I don't know what they're up to, I mean, I don't see what they could possibly do now that I can decide for myself and made it clear that I won't go back with them, but then, they didn't care for my health so... maybe they'd be ready to go further, even if I have some trouble imagining them going further than that. They wouldn't harm me just for heritage... they're not criminals. Sorry, I'm just being paranoid... it got to me more than I expected."

I was probably trying to reassure myself but it was true, my parents were being weird, secretive, and they had proven that my life meant nothing to them, but still... they wouldn't do more harm than that, no reason was good enough for that.

Mail's arm found my head again, and I could tell that he was dying to take me into his arms and was doing the best he could to hold me close. I dismissed my paranoia, I just wanted to feel him next to me, it had been so long since he was that close, and I had a feeling that the nurses wouldn't allow that often so better make the best of that moment while it lasted...

My fingers, the ones trapped between Mail and me, were twitching, trying to reach to him. I wish I could at least hold his hand, or touch a bit of skin. My lips were desperately stuck against fabric when all I wanted was to feel the skin of his neck, which warmth was teasing me. My hand on that side was broken but after all this time after the accident, it was slightly better, and the bandage was holding everything in place so I could at least move my wrist and non-broken arm, even if that was a considerable effort for me still. But damn, more fabric. I could notice that it was his jeans but with the bandage, that was about all.

**Matt**  
Hell no. No. What he was doing to me... Yes, but no.  
"If you go on like this we're going to have a problem... a _big_ problem." I chuckled, knowing that he wasn't aware of what he was doing exactly.  
"What?" Mihael genuinely asked.  
"That's my dick you're touching..." I refrained a laugh when I saw his surprised face in the low light of the room.  
"Oh... a _big_ problem? Pretentious much?" he teased me with a fake snort.  
"You didn't seem to complain before..." I laughed for good this time. How I missed that simple joking around. I shifted so I could kiss him, feeling his innocent teasing's effects although I was trying not to think about it.

I could still taste the cherry chapstick on his lips, happy to feel them soft under my own. They had been so damaged, I was glad I could at least properly kiss him now. I nibbled at his lower lip playfully, I couldn't deny that his previous ministrations had gotten to me really fast, the feeling heightened by the fact that I was deprived of any physical contact with him for so long.

He replied to my kiss, his tongue running over mine as soon as I parted my lips, and it was hard to keep myself propped on my arms, hovering over him without crushing him and not touching any part of his damaged body. Especially when he resumed his teasing, consciously this time. It was not much, but anything that belonged to him touching my sex deprived cock was enough to start me up on the subject.

"You're a bad boy, you know that?" I muttered against his lips, feeling him smile. Bastard. I smiled too, my heart making jolts at this glimpse of the true Mihael.  
"Punish me?" he chuckled, and I swear he was trying to grope me harder.

The kiss became quickly heated. It was difficult to contain myself, even where we were, even with his state. And he was doing nothing to stop me, making it worse even, sucking on my lower lip as he caressed my crotch through my jeans. He couldn't do much with his hand but the slight pressure of the back of his hand was driving me crazy.  
"Mihael..." I breathed, trying to calm down, but I felt his tongue run along my jaw, and I couldn't refrain a low moan.  
"Open your jeans..." he whispered. I froze for an instant, but the way he nipped the skin he could reach, the tip of his tongue grazing on my ear lobe made me lose it. Damn... that was too much, I just had to comply, even if in the back of my mind I knew this wasn't the place or the right time.

I unbuttoned my jeans, the friction of his hand feeling closer with only my boxers and the bandages separating me from his touch. His movements were disordered but I didn't care, anything felt good at that point, and I resumed kissing him, until I felt his fingers slip under the waistband of my underwear. I let a shuddering breath out.

"Don't hurt yourself." I told him, remembering that it was his broken hand.  
"It's okay." he replied, his hand reaching between my cock and my stomach. He couldn't really grab it, but damn, the feeling it gave me knowing it was him touching me... I missed it.

I was so hard it was almost painful, but even if it felt like heaven, I wanted more. I carefully slid my hand under the blanket, reaching for his own member, that I found fully erected, which only half surprised me.  
"Does it hurt?" I enquired, making sure that he was comfortable with what I had begun.  
"Nh-no..." he let out a sigh as my fingers closed around him, gently stroking.

He wasn't long to release himself over my hand, a soft moan escaping him.  
"At least I may not have an erection when the nurse washes me tomorrow." he chuckled. Oh. That was something I hadn't thought about until now, but I suppose that it must be quite embarrassing...

I laughed softly. "Is it a male nurse at least?"  
"No, it's the one with the double Ds and the ponytail" he scoffed, "And she's over forty at least."  
"I didn't know you got off on girls..." I teased him, knowing he wouldn't like it.  
"It's _normal_, okay? I can't help it..."  
"I know, I'm just joking, but I'm ready to help anytime." I pecked his lips to punctuate my words but he deepened the kiss immediately, his own hand resuming what it was doing to my cock. He was putting so much in the kiss, biting, licking, sucking, that I coated his hand pretty quickly too.

Once I went down from my high, I stood up and lit the table lamp to find something to clean us. A few minutes later, there was nothing left of our little fun time, except for one thing.  
"I so want to see your face when you explain this to the nurse tomorrow." I smirked, pointing at the stained bandage of his hand.


	56. Chapter 56

_**Note: **I've been meaning to have Mail and his mother have this conversation for a while because I know the question of Mail's real sexual orientation has been asked several times through reviews and PMs. I was just waiting for the right time instead of shoving it somewhere regardless of the fact that it felt right or not, and now was the right time :)_

_Trish (unlogged, thus my reply here) reviewed that "you started scowling us with homosexuality etc. way too much, its a fanfic so please be done with that genetic scowling stuff once and for all, and also, would that mean that matt is also born straight so you kinda killed it a little."_  
_I suppose that the person means 'scolding'._

_So, first, this is a story, regardless of the fact that it is indeed under fanfiction. I don't treat a fanfiction differently than an original fiction, I make it accurate, and I don't put less emotions and effort in it just because it's fanfiction. When I write, I give my whole to it, no matter what. Should I respect the readers of my fanfics less than the readers of my original work by giving them less? No._

_Then, about giving a lesson about homosexuality, when did I even do that? Matt is going through a thinking process, he is a character that needs background and evolves because the story would have no point without that. It's called progression, and the topic of this fic being about someone who breaks barriers and discovers his own sexuality, you'd expect me to raise the subject almost every chapter. Would J.K. Rowling write a whole HP book without writing about magic? (NOT comparing myself to her, I'm not even a HP fan, sorry, just making the point here because it was so obvious to me that a fic about homosexuality well, you'd read a lot about homosexuality in it, that the review really made me... duh.)_

_And, last, nothing ever confirmed anywhere along this fic that Matt had to be assumed straight. He fell for Mello, that should have hinted things a bit, shouldn't it?_  
_I'm not a fangirl writing for the sake of smut, I'm a WRITER and I don't care if this is fanfiction, I will NEVER use the easy way or consciously avoid an aspect to serve my interests. I may even take things a bit too seriously with my writing, making things completely accurate, researching, giving psychological depth and finding credible reasons for everything, but that's the way I am, and I wanted to get this straight once and for all. It doesn't mean I don't do mistakes, and I totally accept to have them pointed out._

_**Sorry for the long AN but I thought that it could be useful to explain all of that, considering the content of this particular chapter, so it makes even more sense.**_

* * *

**Mello**  
I dozed off once again, feeling at peace, our activities leaving me drained.

I woke up at dawn, feeling Mail shift beside me. He kissed me tenderly before getting up.  
"I'll go home for a shower, I'll be back soon." he whispered in my ear, nuzzling my cheek, "I promise, I won't be long." he added, probably because I pulled a sad face. I didn't want to be away from him. I could already feel a knot forming in my stomach.

I tried to get back to sleep, but I couldn't help but turn the conversation with my parents in all directions possible, trying to find a clue. It only made me even more nervous, and I, for once, felt the arrival of the morning nurse very welcome because it was driving me insane not to be able to stand up or at least move more than I actually could, just to evacuate the stress.

She gave me a look when she changed my hand bandage.  
"I take it you had a _very _ good night." she winked.  
I liked her. She talked about her kids sometimes while washing me, and I know that she was trying to make this moment a bit less embarrassing for me by focusing on something else.  
She was a large brunette with a ponytail and breasts that could barely be contained in her white blouse. She always seemed at ease with me, and I had to admit that she reminded me a bit of Mail's mother, kind and strong. She had to be to work here.  
And she was always the one to accept more than the hospital's rules allowed, letting Mail in the night before.  
"Marital duties..." I chuckled, as she was wrapping my hand in a fresh bandage.  
"He's such a cutie, don't let this one go, he cares about you big time." she smiled.  
"What, I'm not as cute as him?" I pouted, teasing her while she took care of the scar on my face.  
"Heh, don't blame me, I have a thing for redheads." she laughed loudly.  
"I could take advantage of this." Mail's voice resounded behind her, and I saw him peeping through the door he'd just opened.  
"'Morning sunshine!" she threw at him cheerfully, "As if you hadn't already, lover boy!"  
Mail smiled to her, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he approached the bed.

"Hello princess." he pecked my lips, before taking the seat next to my bed, waiting for the nurse to finish with me.  
I groaned at the stupid nickname, but I smiled anyway, relieved that he was here.  
"I'm done, I'll leave you with Grumpy!" the nurse grinned at Mail while gathering her stuff, blowing a kiss to me as she always did before leaving, "And behave, before we run out of bandages!"  
Her loud laugh echoed even after she closed the door.

**Matt**  
After a bit of chatting, I could feel Mihael being more and more nervous. He hadn't brought up the topic of his parents since I had come back, but I didn't need him to say it to know it was what was bothering him.  
I was torn because I knew part of what they were hiding from him, and I had to keep my worries for myself since knowing what I knew, it gave a new light to what they had told him. He was simply wondering why they were so secretive, and why they were so concerned about his father losing his place in the family business, even if he got a bad vibe out of it, but for me, it was alarming to know that Mr Keehl was seeing his own downfall from the Mafia coming, that he and his wife were pure bastards ready to endanger their son's life, and that they were too insistent to give up so easily on Mihael telling them to leave him alone. I had no idea what they could do at that point, and why Mihael's mother seemed the most vindictive of the two, but I had to be on my guard. Without Mihael noticing. Easy. Fuck.

I kept on coming everyday to visit him, now that his parents were out of the picture for now, but I had a nagging feeling that it wasn't over, that had gone too smoothly, them coming, talking and giving up when Mihael had refused to help.

The next Monday, I woke up early, to the sound of Skype beeping repeatedly. Ah fuck, I had let my computer on all night since it had decided to do an update and I was too tired to wait for it to be done. It had probably restarted once it was over, and although I had logged off from the messenger so I wouldn't be bothered, Skype had restarted as well. I didn't even need to look to know who it was.

Jeremy had sent me a few offline messages as well as emails since I hadn't been connected during the previous days, and I had briefly replied that I was really busy with the visits and all, trying to be nice but short, and although he wasn't stalking me per se, he was bordering it very closely. He probably knew that himself considering the few lines that were waiting for me on the screen of my computer, that I checked out of annoyance.

_"Hello Mail, sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to make sure you were alright and tell you again that I'm here, should you need help with anything."_

I gave him five minutes of chatting, feeling a bit guilty that I was being so selfish when he had helped me so much. It was just that I was so focused on Mihael, on my own feelings of relief for having him awaken and on his way to recovery, and of worry about his parents, that it was hard to find the will to give time to anyone else. It was something awful to admit, but Jeremy could disappear, I wouldn't miss him or go after him. But that was really horrible from me and I knew it, so I tried to make amend by giving him a bit of my time.

Once I logged off again, Jeremy seemingly appeased, something came to my mind and instead of going back to sleep as I had intended to, lacking a lot of it lately and visiting hours starting only in three hours from now, I got ready quickly, finding my mother in the kitchen when I exited my room and regretting immediately waking her up so early with the sound of the shower. She needed to rest too.

She was at work all day, and although she had always taken care of everything in the household in addition, she worried just as much as me over Mihael, and I knew that she lost sleep over it just as much as me. I guess that's what mothers do. And even if I would rather have her worry-free, seeing her care so much for Mihael made me happy, because my sexuality, although taking a sudden turn with me falling for Mihael, had never been questioned or rejected, and my boyfriend was like part of the family even before he was my boyfriend.

I knew that the day would come when Mihael would discover who his parents really were, and it reassured me to know that he would find open arms here to catch him when he would fall. It was not just me, he would still have a family, a real one, bound by much more than blood relations.

But it occurred to me that actually my parents hadn't been really surprised when Mihael and me had been together at first.  
Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, I stared at the content for a moment before speaking.  
"Mum, you never showed any surprise when Mihael and me finally got together."  
"Why would I have, my little fox?" she barely stopped stirring the pancake dough to raise an eyebrow at me.  
"I had always dated girls and suddenly I'm with a guy, I mean..." What did I mean? Or rather, how to say it?  
"You'll probably be the one surprised," she smiled, pouring a ladle of dough in the pan, "But as soon as we saw Mihael the first time, your father told me that you had more chances to fall for him than any girl you had had before. He didn't say it in a positive way of course, more like you would never settle with the attitude you had at that time, but it made me think."  
"Attitude?" I asked, looking at her flip the first batch of pancakes.  
"You weren't particularly... well behaved with girls, I'd say." she teased me, "We let you alone with this since we both knew you acted responsible at least with one aspect of it. And well, the rest was up to the girls that accepted that from you, I wasn't fond of what you were doing but you had to be two for that so I didn't want to put all the blame on you."  
She didn't need to be precise for me to understand that as long as they knew I protected myself, they didn't interfere. But that was a bit weird to be having this conversation with my mother.

"But what does it have to do with Mihael?" we had diverted, or so I thought.  
"As I was saying, what you father said that day made me think. It was obvious he had a huge crush on you, and I took that as only that of course, in the beginning. But the way you talked, I knew that the neighbours we had once, the gay couple, had a toll on your mind, and I purposely told you you sounded homophobic that day during dinner with Mihael, because I knew you were. I couldn't blame you, they had been disgusting. As adults, your father and me were able to make the distinction between sexual orientation and behaviour, and none of us put their awful actions on account of them being homosexual, they were horrible people, and that was all there was to it. But in the eyes of the child that you were at the time, I knew that it could do a lot of damage."  
"Yeah... I remember every image of what I saw that night on the parking, I had nightmares for many nights after that, I didn't understand past the fact that men that had sex with men were disgusting..."  
"I know, I understood when you found acceptable to state that you were not gay, as if it was a disgrace. I felt guilty, and what I told you that day was more of a reminder to myself that it was all my fault for not talking to you about that before the damage was done than anything."  
"I was a dick, that wasn't your fault, I'm educated, I have an internet access, I see people everyday, I simply was too stupid to evolve on the topic." I replied. I knew that I had been an awful person, and there was no way I'd hold my mother responsible of that when she had raised me the best she could.  
"You were too young to understand, and I should have explained to you. That was my role as your mother to guide you in the right direction. I'm relieved and happy that Mihael repaired this part of you and opened your mind, so I don't feel as bad as I used to for not doing my job, though."

She smiled to me, depositing a plate in front of me. I had planned to do several calls this morning, but suddenly, I felt as if it could wait. There was something I had to ask her.  
I didn't have time to though, because she wasn't done. There was a point to what she had begun to say, and she hadn't reached it yet, I knew it.  
She sat with her own cup of coffee, leaving the rest of the pancakes piled up on a plate on the counter, and smiled at me.  
"He had a huge crush on you, that was very obvious... but he had something else: influence. And suddenly, watching you two interact, you falling for him didn't sound that crazy anymore. He was really forcing himself on you, I could tell, but that didn't shock me. What shocked me was that you were letting him do it. Oh, you protested, there's no denying it, but I don't think you'd have let a girl do half of what he did to you."  
"No girl ever was so pushy with me." I stated flatly.  
"Really?" she sounded very unconvinced, and she was right, although I didn't want to admit it. Layla had done the same, but I never let her a chance to go on, putting a halt to it right when it stared. Of course my mother didn't know that, I never shared my sex life with her, but she saw things in me anyway. Mothers...

"So you thought I was gay right from the start?"  
"Not exactly... I didn't really ponder over your sexuality, that didn't matter to me, or your father, you'd find the right one for you at some point and, girl or boy, it wasn't important. But although you tried to push Mihael's advances away, you would drag him back to you when he escaped you as well, even if you didn't notice. It was friendship to you, or so you thought, but I wasn't blind, Mihael didn't have a simple crush on you, I saw the way he looked at you, you were the one for him, and somehow, it seemed right to think he was the one for you. He was changing you, and when somebody had the power to make you a better person, half of the relationship is built."  
"What was the other half?" I didn't really get what she had seen that gave away the fact that I was in love with Mihael without even knowing it.  
"The day you decided that for his own good you wouldn't see him anymore, you came back from his place and you were miserable. Heartbroken. I knew that he had achieved the change in you because for once, you had taken a decision that hurt you deeply just so _he_ had a chance at happiness. Of course, friends do that too, but the few words you told me that day, that had he been a girl, you'd have a relationship with him, I knew. The barrier you were facing concerning your feelings for him were not his gender, but your acceptance of your attraction for someone of your gender." She grabbed my hand across the table, "I could only hope that you'd accept yourself, because you had already done half of the job by accepting him."

I stared at her a few seconds, trying to process her words. It all made sense, but I had never seen things under that light. It didn't change anything to how things were now but it untangled questions I had been asking myself lately, as to how someone can go from totally straight to being with a guy. I wasn't straight to begin with, most certainly... But misconceptions can be a huge curtain over things, I suppose.

I got up, put my plate and mug in the sink, and hugged my mother, depositing a kiss on top of her head before exiting the kitchen. It's lucky someone as thick as me has a lucid mother.

I got back to my room to make my calls.


	57. Chapter 57

_**Note: **I can't tell you when updates will show up, I forced myself to write this one just to keep my mind busy. My beautiful Fahrenheit, my precious mate for 17 years, half of my heart, is gone. And I had to be the one to make the decision to put her down because she couldn't be saved from the equine shit that killed her in less than 24 hours. It means nothing to anyone, but I'll never get over losing her. I have to learn how to be myself without her now. Sorry, I didn't mean to rant, I just wanted you to know why updates may be sporadic, or my chapters weird... bear with me for a while, I'll be able to bury the pain at some point and get back to my own normality.  
_

* * *

**Matt**  
I called the prosecutor. He knew more than anyone about the Keehls, and whatever information he had, I would make sure he would share it with me. Okay, part of me didn't even believe in that plan, but that was all I had at the moment, and I needed to do something, I couldn't just wait for things to happen, because I was sure as hell that they wouldn't be pretty.

He turned me down at first, which I expected, but eight calls and a threat to come to his office no matter if I had an appointment or not and yell my lungs out in front of his door finally convinced him. Even the barrier of his secretary wasn't enough at each call I made. I smirked when I heard him sigh as I was hanging up the phone. I wouldn't have to resort to bringing my mum and her killer punch with me.

"You really expect me to disclose such confidential information? Mail... I have let you come in hopes that I could put some sense into your head because I know how hard headed you've been until now and there was nothing that would have prevented you to come and find me here, but once again, _please_ give it up. You're going nowhere except rushing headlong to a disaster..."  
I stayed silent. He knew full well that his his little speech had no effect on me. I knew it was the Mafia, it had sunk completely by now and even if I knew that it was mostly because I never had a glimpse of what it really implied that I wasn't as scared as I should be, I wasn't so sure that I would back off even getting said glimpse. I'd be scared, most certainly, but I wouldn't back off.

He shook his head.  
"Mail... I know how you feel, but do not even start to think that you stand a chance against them. Their situation is precarious in the sense that Mihael was the rightful heir, and is unlikely to take the spot by himself. Mr Keehl still had hopes about that, but his own father being now aware of Mihael's sexual orientation reduces these hopes to nothing. And I have a feeling that even without all of this, Mihael would never have accepted anyway, but we're past that point. What you have to know is that as long as Mihael doesn't know, he's safe, sort of. You are too, as long as they believe you ignore everything about their position as well. Should you try anything, you'd be discovered and things would go downhill pretty quickly."  
"So you're telling me that I just sit and wait and things will get better?" I wasn't stupid, I knew that it wasn't as simple as the prosecutor was trying to make me believe, "Mihael knows that they're hiding something, and it's only a matter of time before he knows, even if I shut up about it. They want something from him, and if they're being _that_ insistent, I don't think they'll suddenly change their mind and go back to Germany."  
"What are you saying, they're being insistent? Don't tell me they're back?" the prosecutor seemed genuinely surprised, and I knew that I had marked a point, even if he suddenly looked really worried.

He stood up, gestured at me to wait where I was and left the office, his cellphone to his ear, waiting for his call to reach his interlocutor.  
I had made some progress obviously, but his reaction fuelled the stress building up in my stomach, and when he came back, looking even more anxious than before he left the room, I was on the edge of my seat, my eyes pleading him to explain.

"We have a problem. Go back home, stay with your family, make sure your parents don't have to go anywhere in the next hours. Just stay home, do you understand? No more games and whims, you and your parents don't go _anywhere_. Is that clear?"  
I stared at him, quite taken aback, his worry being contagious.  
"IS THAT CLEAR?"' he almost yelled, taking my shoulders and forcing me up.  
"Yeah... yes." I forced out, shocked by the sudden change in his usual calm and collected behaviour. It was so out of character that I was really scared now, sensing shit ready to hit the fan and not knowing what it was all about. But it must be bad...  
"And Mihael?" I asked as he opened the way out of his office.  
"The lawyer is on his way and I've asked for more men there."  
I didn't know if I should feel reassured that Mihael was well guarded, or scared shitless that he was obviously in danger...

He pushed me outside of the building and watched me drive away.  
Once home, I texted him that my parents were there too and confirmed that they got the warning. My father frowned but said nothing, but he unconsciously brought my mum closer as they sat on the couch. I was like a lion in a cage, the worst being that we knew nothing. We were forced to stay safe here but we didn't even know the reason why.  
I was itching to drive to the hospital but I knew that this time I had to keep my word and not make any problems.

**Mello**  
I saw the lawyer arrive as I thought Mail would be here anytime, and felt quite disappointed, but mostly surprised. I had no appointment with him.  
He just greeted me and I saw him sit on one of the chairs along the wall of my room, outside, as he closed the door on him, not even leaving me room to question his presence here. The room I was in was one of surveillance, where a window gives on the corridor, so they could have an eye on me when I was unconscious. Now the blinds were closed most of the time, but I still could distinguish forms in the back-lightning.  
A little later two other persons arrived and considering their stature and how they sat beside the lawyer, they were something along the lines of cops or bodyguards. The lawyer soon came back in my room and it was obvious that he was gauging what to tell me, his smile nervous and his eyes slightly elusive.  
"Go straight to the point." I sighed, feeling a headache start from straining my neck for too long to look by the corridor's window.

"Don't worry, it's just safety measures, nothing to worry about." he lied.  
"Yeah, of course, I get your visit and two guarding dogs but there's nothing to worry about." I stared at him, trying to catch an emotion that would betray him but he only smiled apologetically.  
"I'm sorry, I know what it looks like but really, that's only prevention and-"  
"And you think I'll buy this without questioning. Even in my state, I can't possibly look _that_ dumb, can I?" I spat, more venomous than I intended to be but I was worried, "Where is Mail?"  
"He's okay, don't worry. He's at home with his parents, there's nothing to fear."  
I chuckled bitterly. "For a lawyer you're being pretty bad at handling this. How do you know where he is and with whom except if someone made sure of this?"  
The lawyer laughed softly. "Looks like a career is on its way, Sherlock."  
He was about to say something when his cell phone rang.  
From his frown, I knew that it didn't bode well. I hated to be left out of it though, I needed to know.

"Will you tell me what's going on for fuck's sake?" I groaned, frustrated, as he hung up.  
"Your parents are coming to see you."  
"What? What can they possibly want? I don't want to see them, I thought I had made it clear with them the last time. Tell them to fuck off, I don't want to see them."  
"I think you should at least hear them, even if you don't want to talk to them." the lawyer insisted.  
"Why? You know why, right?" That was getting ridiculous, my parents were keeping secrets, the lawyer was keeping secrets, when would someone say something?  
"I know... but they have to be the ones to tell you, that's not my role."

He left quickly before I could question him further, but nothing made sense at that moment and it was exhausting. That's when I realised that I had no way to contact anyone, no cell phone – it had been reduced to pieces in the accident – not even a regular phone in my room.  
I called for a nurse with the remote beside my bed.

The ponytail nurse arrived a few minutes later, smiling a big smile as usual.  
"What's up sweetie? I hope it's not for a bandage change!" she threw at me playfully before seeing my worried face.  
"I need to make a call." I told her.  
"Oh. Well, let me go grab one, I won't be long." She was already turning around when I called her back.  
"Please, I don't have time. Can I borrow yours? Please..."  
She didn't even question me and handed me her cell phone out from the front pocket of her white blouse, seeing as I was really nervous.  
"I'm gonna need your help." I grimaced, unable to hold it or even dial the number with my broken bones.  
"Nothing too bad I hope?" she enquired as I gave her Mail's number by heart.  
"I have no idea..." I whispered, waiting for him to pick up the call as she held it against my ear. It barely rang once that he was already talking to me.

"Mihael? Are you okay?" Mail asked immediately, and I could hear that he was anxious.  
"Yes, I'm fine, even if I don't know what's going on..."  
"I have no idea either... but I'm sure it's nothing." Mail tried to reassure me but I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.  
"Not you Mail... please you, at least, don't lie to me..." I felt tears sting my eyes. I knew that he was only trying to make me feel better, but knowing that I was guarded, that my parents were coming to see me, and that Mail was at home with his parents although he was supposed to be visiting me so someone had to have made sure of that, it was just too much. Things kept on piling up and no answer came my way, and from the look of things, there was danger somewhere.  
"I'm sorry... I don't know anything, I've just been asked to stay home... I wish I could come to see you, but probably later I guess, don't worry-"  
"My parents are coming." I knew he could do nothing for me at that point, but still, I needed him to know. I just felt better when he'd at least share my sorrow with me, even from a distance.  
"What? What do they want?" his voice turned from anxious to properly angry.  
"The lawyer said they have something to tell me, something that he knows but can't tell me himself... Mail..." I was really crying now, "I'm tired of this, why is no one telling me what's going on? What's up with my parents that they try to hide everything from me?"

**Matt**  
Mihael was sobbing on the other end of the line and I just didn't care anymore for protection or whatever. I grabbed my car keys and left the apartment, still talking to him, pushing my mum aside as gently as I could when she tried to prevent me from leaving.  
"Don't try to stop me!" I shouted, my own tears threatening to fall from the worry, the fear, and the sorrow my loved one was oozing on the phone. I could feel how exhausted he was of this, and I felt the same. I didn't know what I could do for him but being beside him was at least something I could do.  
"I'll be right there Mihael." I hung up, reaching for the stairs. But my father stopped me, grabbing my arm.  
"Mail, you stay here." he said firmly. Seeing as I tried to free myself from his hold, he gripped me tighter and pulled me toward the door of the apartment, my mum waiting in the doorframe, crying.  
"LET ME GO!" I screamed, pulling backward and almost falling when my arm slid out of his grasp.  
My father looked at me, and I knew he was being dead serious, and I usually didn't even try to argue when he had that look on, but I was past caring right at that moment.  
"Mail, don't make me repeat myself. Go inside." his tone was low and full of contained rage, but weirdly, he didn't scare me this time. I made a step in direction of the stairs and suddenly felt him yank me violently backwards, more than I would ever have expected him to in all my life. I turned around, his strong fingers still imprinting a bruise on my upper arm, a rage building up inside of me, a feral instinct taking over me as I raised my fist.

It happened fast. My fist almost connected with its target when my father let go of my other arm, and stopped my knuckles a mere butterfly wing from his face, my mum's voice letting a strangled cry out in the background. I saw his expression go from shock to something else I didn't place as he took a step backward to keep his balance, and then I was pulled in his arms.  
He held me tight, whispering in my ear, his voice trembling: "Kiss your mum goodbye and go, son."  
He let go of me and I looked at him puzzled, hugging my mother who was still crying. Then I left. There was pride in his eyes.


End file.
